Mornie a Estel Darkness and Hope
by Ithilin Palandiriel
Summary: Set during Lord of the Rings. Sequal to Of Quarrels and Women, READ THIS FIRST. WARNING: SEX RAPE AND TORTURE. REVIEWS AND CRITIQUES NECESSARY FOR UPDATES!
1. Summary and Prologue

Mornië a Estel (Darkness and Hope) by Ithilin Palandiriel  
  
ithilinpalantir@netscape.net  
  
Rating: R (Birth in the prologue, some implied sex and rape and torture.) Nothing graphic but if you are one of those squeamish sorts, please don't bother reading this.   
  
Summary: Set during The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Sequel to Of Quarrels and Women. Ithilin goes with the fellowship at the insistence of Gandalf. While protecting her from one of their own they neglect an even stronger foe.  
  
Disclaimer: Though I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, Tolkien, I am very much indebted to him for his masterful creation of the races of Middle Earth. Middle Earth will be returned to him with all its contents, perhaps a little the worse for wear, but nonetheless exactly as he put it on paper and said "Ner!"  
  
Nain aiyale Valinor, May it be I shall behold thee in Valinor.   
  
Author's Note: None of my stories connect to each other in any way. I just like seeing how our friends react to the situations I put them in. However these two stories are the exception to this rule. The Young woman in this story is named Ithilin. She is not me, but by the Valar I wish I was her. Story Characters get to have all the fun.  
  
Mornië a Estel (Darkness and Hope)  
  
Prologue: Blessing and Dishonor  
  
Night still cast her starry veil over Rivendell when something woke Aragorn from a sound sleep. He sat up in bed and listened intently, straining his ears for what woke him. A soft moaning cry broke the stillness of the night. Ithilin! Pulling on a tunic in the darkness, he raced out of his room to the she-elf's bed chamber.   
  
The sight that met his eyes, upon opening the door, distressed him slightly. Trembling, Ithilin stood clinging to the bed post for support. Her night shift was wet and stained with blood.  
  
"Aragorn," she whimpered, her voice on the edge of panic.  
  
"Hush, little sister," he whispered. "I'm here."  
  
"The babe-" She bit back a cry as a contraction ripped through her slender frame.  
  
Aragorn understood what was happening. He had assisted his father in many births, human and elf, but it had never been this close to home before. He took a deep breath as he moved toward her. He could not help her if he was not calm. Legolas' child would be born this night and Ithilin needed Aragorn to remain cool headed.   
  
"It's going to be all right, Ithilin." He said pulling her to him. Holding her was a little awkward because of her pregnant belly, but he knew that she needed that touch. "I've helped Ada many times. Your body knows what to do. Just listen to it."  
  
The little she-elf nodded, stifiling another moan. The contractions were close together. How long had she been like this, he had no way of knowing. But past experience told him that it wouldn't be much longer.  
  
"I can't do this."  
  
"Yes, hên, you can. Think of Legolas and how proud he will be."  
  
"He has Lady Yavisûl." She panted as pain coursed through her again. "He can not think of me now."  
  
Aragorn chuckled. "I think not. That vain prince, whose heart you captured, would not have allowed his hair to be cut if you had meant so little to him."  
  
Ithilin laughed breathlessly, "You are right, Estel. He is a rather vain creature."  
  
"He is that. And never doubt his love for you."  
  
"I . . .OH!" Another contraction made her knees buckle and she fell against Aragorn's chest. Instinctively, he tightened his hold on her before she slipped from his arms.  
  
"Breathe through the pain, little sister."  
  
"It hurts."  
  
"I know it does. But you need to breathe."  
  
"Ilúvatar, tua-nîn!" she gasped, her dark eyes wide with pain and fear. "OH!"  
  
"Come. Let's get you back on the bed. You'll be a little more comfortable there." He said brushing sweat damp hair from her flushed face and arranging the pillows so her laboring body was supported. "It won't be long now."  
  
"I want Legolas." She sobbed, her breathing fast and ragged.  
  
"I know, Ithilin. I'm sure he's wishing he could be with you, too."  
  
"OH, Valar! Aragorn I have to . . . " her words were cut off by the sudden irresistible urge to push.  
  
"It's all right. Just follow you instincts."   
  
"Aragorn . . . Legolas. . . white silk . . ." She panted as the contraction ebbed, "in the wardrobe."  
  
Aragorn went to the wardrobe and took out a much wrinkled white tunic. Green and gold leaves curled over the shoulder seams meeting at the gold leaf shaped clasps that bore the royal seal of the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas had given it to her nine months ago, just before he was forced to return home.  
  
"Here it is, little one. Still smells like him, too."  
  
"Good." She grunted over another push. "Aragorn, something is straining."  
  
Aragorn smiled as he lifted her shift up over her knees, "Your little one wants to meet you. Hold on. The head is almost out." He looked into her anxious pain filled eyes. She was exhausted. He knew she would probably pass out as soon as the child was born. "Ithilin, I need you to listen to me. Once the head is out, I need you to not push for a little bit. OK?"  
  
Ithilin nodded and swallowed. He could see how frightened she was.   
  
"I promised him that I would take care of you, Ithilin. Everything is going to be all right. Do you trust me?"  
  
Again she nodded, biting her lip against the pain.  
  
"Good. Now one more big push and you can rest a bit."  
  
Pain assaulted her as the baby's head emerged. Then a sort of strained peace while Aragorn cleared the baby's nose and mouth.  
  
"You're doing well, little one. You're almost there. Push hard and this little royal will be in your arms." He saw her hesitate slightly, "You can do this, Ithilin. I promise."  
  
Another nod. "Ai! Ilúvatar!" she cried as the child slid out of her. Then she sank back onto the pillows, utterly spent.  
  
Aragorn quickly tied off the cord and severed it with his knife. Then he wrapped the infant in a thick towel.  
  
"Your young prince, my lady." He said as he laid the swaddled infant in her arms.  
  
"Aragorn?" came Elrond's voice from the door. "Why did you not wake me?"  
  
"Legolas would have wanted it this way, Ada."  
  
Elrond smiled tenderly at his human son. The ranger had gone from dislike of the little she-elf to companion in the blink of an eye the day Legolas had been forced to leave Rivendell. He looked at the young woman and the babe in her weary arms. Her eyes drooped in happy sleepiness. Exhaustion would soon take over and she would not wake until the child needed her milk.  
  
"What will you name the young prince, Ithilin?" Aragorn asked her as Elrond took over and cleaned her up.  
  
"I hadn't thought about it." She whispered. She gazed out the window as the gray light of dawn hinted at a hue of pink. "Ararûn."  
  
Aragorn saw the tunic still clutched in her hand. "Here, little prince." He said, tucking the silk shirt around the sleeping child. "This belonged to your Ada. Perhaps you will wear it someday."  
  
Ithilin's eyes had closed and Aragorn wrapped the blankets around her still form. He smiled sadly at the thought of his friend missing the birth of his first child. Still, Legolas may yet experience this sense of wonder if Yavisûl bore him a child. He hoped that it would be so, for Legolas' sake.  
  
Elrond stroked the infant's feathery blond hair, "I will send to Legolas with news of his son's birth."  
  
Aragorn nodded as he collapsed into the chair by the hearth. "I'll stay with her, Ada."  
  
"Nay, Estel. You've worked hard. Go get some rest. I'll stay."  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Drink it!" Thranduil ordered.  
  
Legolas clamped his lips shut against the foul liquid. This had become a nightly ritual in the last nine months that he was forced to drink this horrid concoction that made him act like a stag in rut.  
  
"Drink it, or I'll force it down your ungrateful throat."  
  
The prince glared at his father. Not long ago he use to love and respect the elf king. But since his forced marriage to Lady Yavisûl and subsequent coerced mating sessions, Legolas hated his father more than Sauron.  
  
"Legolas, I don't like having to do this to you. Just drink it and get it over with."  
  
The younger elf shook his cropped blond head vehemently. He shivered slightly as the cold air of early spring bit his bare skin.  
  
"Then you leave me no choice. Hold him down."  
  
It took six of his father's personal guards to hold the young prince down while Thranduil pried open Legolas' mouth and poured the fiery potion down his throat. Legolas fought with all his strength but it was never enough. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't his father accept his bond with Ithilin? He was, after all the youngest of many sons. He shouldn't have to be put through this torture.  
  
"I hate you!" the prince spat when they finally let him up. He was trembling now with the effects of the drug. "I hate what you have done to me. If I didn't have a reason for living, I would have killed myself long ago."  
  
His mind was reeling. His body was on fire with blind lust. No matter how hard he fought against the drug, it still took a firm hold of his senses leaving him incapable of rational thought.  
  
Yavisûl waited for him on the bed. He stumbled into her arms. His body seeking time and again a release that would not come. He could feel Yavisûl's body shudder beneath him. He could hear her moan. Yet he could not find satisfaction or pleasure in her, because she could not give him what he craved most of all. Unconditional love. The rest was a blur, as it always was. Yet in the back of his mind he knew with horrible certainty that what he had done, was doing, he would continue to do as long as he was given Echuir Root.   
  
When dawn broke, Legolas' reasoning returned. He rushed to the bath chamber, sinking to his knees beside the basin retching and sobbing uncontrollably. Hot tears of shame slid silently down his fair cheeks. He had been made a whore for his family line and nothing he could do would change that. He wanted to die, but if he took his life then he'd be ending Ithilin's life and that of their unborn child as well.   
  
He turned on the hot water tap, filling the tub. All he wanted, at this moment, was to scrub away the filth of his shame. He wondered absently as he slid into the scalding water if he would ever feel clean again. 


	2. Many Meetings

Part one: Many Meetings  
  
"Adar, I . . ." Legolas' voice trailed off at the horror before his eyes. Thranduil lay spent between Yavisûl's legs.   
  
"Legolas . . ."  
  
"No, Adar. I understand now." The young prince said coldly, "You make me a concubine in my own house to satisfy your whims."  
  
"No, my son. That was not the intent." The elf king said angrily, "Since you completely refused to lie with her, she came to me for comfort."  
  
"What?! After the herbs you forced me to take nightly for twenty years?! And literally dragging me to her bed?! You accuse me of refusing her?! How dare you, my lord king?!" Legolas' sapphire eyes blazed. He felt betrayed and shamed.  
  
"I was only trying to do what is best for our realm." Thranduil reached out to the prince, but Legolas pulled away. "What could I have done? I needed to forge strong alliances for our future, your future."  
  
"You could have left me alone. Have you any idea how much shame has been brought upon me?!" He turned away from his father, avoiding the elder elf's embrace. "You know how much I love Ithilin. You could have just let me be."  
  
"Forgive me, Legolas."  
  
"Perhaps someday, Adar. But not now. Yavisûl is yours to do with as you please. I want none of it. I am bound for Rivendell and my rightful wife and son."  
  
After the door closed he took off running. His heart hurt badly. He didn't want to believe what he saw. He also didn't want to believe that he meant so little to his father. Hot, angry tears ran unchecked down his face as he ran. He didn't know where he was going and didn't really care. All he wanted, right now, was to put distance between himself and his father.   
  
Finally he stopped and collapsed to the forest floor, sobbing as though his heart would break.  
  
"Legolas?" came a familiar voice.  
  
The prince looked up into the face of his friend Tauredhel.  
  
"Legolas, what's happened?"  
  
"It is nothing, Tauredhel." Legolas stood and brushed himself off. "We are bound for Rivendell, Taur. Get Lanthir and Vanion and pack. We take the ill tidings of Gollum's escape. Hurry, we leave tonight."  
  
"But what of . . ." The younger elf's voice trailed off in embarrassment.  
  
"I have released her from her marriage vows, mellon-nîn." His voice was distant almost cold. He took little satisfaction from the words. He knew his father could stop him if he wanted and continue to force the prince to lie with Yavisûl. With a sigh he pushed the thought away. Then another struck him, one that made him smile for the first time in many years. Ithilin would be in Rivendell as well as their son Ararûn. He was nearing his nineteenth birthday. Almost a man in human terms but still very much a child to elf eyes. He wondered, too, who did the boy look like. He walked back to the palace with a lighter heart. He would be with his beloved again. In all the darkness that had plagued these last years, he could now look for hope in the dawn.  
  
***  
  
Only a half a days journey more and they would be in Rivendell. Legolas couldn't sit still. He fidgeted with the fletchings on his arrows or plaited his mounts mane just to pass the time. Tauredhel, Lanthir, and Vanion, took turns riding beside him, trying their best to keep him from brooding. What were they thinking? He wasn't brooding, he was thinking. Thinking of Ithilin. The softness of her skin beneath his callused hands. Her tender kisses on his lips, the tips of his ears, his neck, chest, belly, and . . . He could almost feel her small hands in his hair and her long slender fingers caressing his ears. Her soft supple body arching in to his. Though they would see little difference.  
  
"The gate, my lord." Vanion said pointing ahead.  
  
He shivered in anticipation as they rode through the archway. His horse had barely stopped before he hopped off and looked around for her.  
  
"Legolas!"   
  
The warning had barely been uttered when something hit him with such force that it sent both beings to the ground into a pile of leaves. Lips closed hungrily over his, fingers touching his ears then twining themselves in his hair. His surprise ebbed as soon as he caught a familiar scent, simbelmynë. His arms closed tightly around the slender waist, crushing the smaller being to him and returned the hungry kiss.   
  
"My lord?" the three perplexed elves stood over the fallen prince, who appeared to know his attacker well . . . very well.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes and laughed at the looks on his friends' faces. "A'maelamin, you have worried my friends with your assault of me."  
  
"Should I assault them as well to make them feel more welcomed, my pretty prince?" came the pert reply.  
  
"If they would not be offended, go ahead."  
  
Ithilin eyed the three impishly yet kept Legolas securely pinned beneath her. "You would not take offense at having to share me?"  
  
"Nay, lovely moonflower. However, I doubt very much that the three of them would be able to handle you." He said brushing her long blond hair out of his face.  
  
"I see she found you." Another voice laughed.  
  
"Yes. As well as a lovely pile of leaves. She's going to be picking those out of my hair for days." The prince chuckled, crushing her to his chest again.  
  
The newcomer reached down and offered to help the prince up. "I'm glad you've finally come back, Legolas."  
  
"Aye, Strider." The elf prince held the young woman tight to his side, not wanting to let her loose. "I am, too. I've missed this imp."   
  
:You're heart sore, a'maelamin?: he heard her voice in his mind, :What has happened?:  
  
:It is a very long story, 'Lin,: He sent back. "Where is the young one?"  
  
"Down on the archery field, mellon-nîn." Aragorn said as he lead his friend and companions down some stone steps. "He's almost outgrown that bow you sent him last summer."  
  
"Already?! He must be getting tall."  
  
"Like you're so short." Aragorn snorted.  
  
Tauredhel and the others exchanged puzzled looks, "Who are you talking about, my lord?" he asked.  
  
Legolas laughed, "My son, Ararûn."   
  
Again, his companions appeared confused.  
  
"You'll see." Aragorn chuckled.  
  
The steps opened out onto the archery field. Three elves stood with their bows nocked, sighting down the shafts. Two were the tall dark headed sons of Lord Elrond. The third was only slightly shorter than the twins, but his hair shone like new minted gold. As one they released their arrows.  
  
"Ai!" the blond elf cried as his shot went wild and struck the side of the stable. "Elladan, why does this keep happening?"  
  
"Because you are not concentrating, youngling." The elder twin replied, watching as the Mirkwood Prince stepped up behind the youngster. "Now try again."  
  
"But-" the younger elf complained until strong arms wrapped around his and slender hands closed over his slightly smaller ones.  
  
"Try again." The strange elf commanded softly. "I will guide you."  
  
The boy drew another shaft and nocked it to the string. The older elf's hands were still closed around his, the grip firm yet gentle. He pulled the string taught, listening to the dark wood creak beneath his hand.  
  
"A little more, young one," came the elder's soft voice in his ear.   
  
"But-" he protested, but found himself complying anyway.  
  
"Now release it."  
  
Again the young elf did as he was instructed. This time, the arrow hit the target just shy of the twins shafts.  
  
The scent of moonflowers reached the younger elf as a breeze wafted by. Recognizing the smell, the boy turned to face the new elf. The face, though unfamiliar, was youthful and gentle. The startling blue eyes were kind but sad.  
  
"Ada?" he breathed tentatively, not daring to hope that it was true. Ararûn had never met his father, but was always eager to listen to his Uncle Estel tell stories of their adventures together.  
  
"Yes, youngling." The prince answered, brushing a stray strand of pale blond hair from the boy's face.  
  
"Ada!" Ararûn cried, dropping his bow and flinging his arms around his father's neck. "You've come home!"  
  
"Yes, little one, I have come home." Legolas said in a choked whisper as he returned his son's embrace. A tear slid down his fair cheek. Twenty years of hell was definitely worth this. Never would he do to his son what his own father had done to him. Never would he break his son's heart by betraying him. Never would he make his son go against his heart for the good of the realm. This young elf, that he held in his arms, was far too precious for that. 


	3. The Coithuliel

Part Two: The Coithuliel  
  
Colors swirled in palantir, slowly revealing a blurry image. A young woman dressed as one of the cursed Elves. Her golden hair hung loose around her slender shoulders. Her blue eyes held the sheen of the moon. This was the one the Dark lord sought. Isildur's heir could wait. The Coithuliel could be used to break the heir, once found. She appeared so delicate and weak. Breaking her might prove to be both enlightening and satisfying. She would never be able to withstand his Uruk-hai.  
  
The Istari moved slowly, almost mechanically, away from the glowing orb.  
  
"Bring me the one called 'Coithuliel," he said, turning to one of the Uruk-hai.   
  
"Yes, master." The gorilla -like being grunted as he bowed.   
  
The Uruk turned and left the chamber. This would be to easy. Women, especially she-elves were incredibly easy to capture. He grinned foully at the thought of tasting the sweet, tender flesh of this one. Saruman let him have his way with all of the ones that had been captured over the years. None of the she-elves had been difficult to break. With the right mixture of drugs and pain, they had all given up their calm exteriors and cried, begged, or screamed. This one would be no different. She would break just as easily and then the fun would start.  
  
***  
  
"She must come, Elrond." The wizard said softly. He could see the rebellion and disbelief in the elf lord's eyes. "She must do what she was born to do. Just as Aragorn must."  
  
"She is too young to understand, Gandalf. You can not force her to do this." The pain in his voice betrayed his feelings for the little she-elf.  
  
"She can not hide any longer, mellon-nîn. You know that. She must finish this."  
  
Elrond's heart ached. How could he send a child of his to die? Though Ithilin was not of his blood, she was still his. Coithuliel or not, she was his child.  
  
"No. I can not let her do this. I can not loose her to the darkness."  
  
"Have you so little faith in her, Elrond?" Gandalf asked, knowing full well what the elf lord was going through. "I know how much you care for her, but would you keep any of your children from doing what they must?"  
  
Elrond sighed heavily, casting his gaze to the floor. He knew that he could protect her no longer. But then what of Legolas and their child, it was too great a risk.  
  
"Gandalf, she is bound."  
  
"Well, well. That is welcome news. To Estel?"  
  
"Thranduil's youngest, Legolas." He answered, turning his gaze to the fire. "I know it wasn't suppose to be this way. I know she was meant to wed Estel, but love can not be controlled."  
  
The Istari smiled warmly at the elf lord. "Nay, mellon-nîn. It can not. Nor should we try. Perhaps it will work out better this way."  
  
"I hope that you are right."  
  
***  
  
A cool autumn breeze lifted the gossamer curtains around the bed. Legolas lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Ithilin lay asleep beside him, curled into his side. Her golden head rested against his bare shoulder. They had not made love, he had been far too jaded by the last twenty years for that. Only when he was ready, would they make love again. It just felt good to have her here. She asked nothing of him. She had not judged him, she just accepted.   
  
He ran his long fingers through her thick mane and kissed her forehead. He loved her more than life. She had accepted what had happened with far more grace than he probably would have if the situations had been reversed. He pulled her closer, almost as if he were trying to become one with her.  
  
"I have missed you, fire of my heart." He whispered into her hair. His eyes glistened with tears. "I do not deserve you."  
  
"Yes, Aníron," she said sleepily, brushing his hair out of her face, "you do deserve me. I would not have bound to you if you didn't."  
  
"Are you upset that we didn't make love tonight?"  
  
"Valar, no." she said propping herself up on her elbow and looking into his sapphire eyes, "Is that all you think I want from you?"  
  
"No. It's just that you have not been with me for so long. I thought you might be disappointed."  
  
Ithilin shook her head, "A little maybe, but you have been hurt deeply. You need time to heal." She sighed softly, "As I said earlier, it will happen when you are ready not before. I am just grateful that you are here."  
  
"Diola lle, a'maelamin." He whispered, his voice tight with emotion.  
  
She straddled his waist, the silken sheets pooling around her hips. Her small hands ran lightly over his chest, making the prince shiver slightly at her touch. She could see the longing in his eyes as he took in her naked form. What she was doing was not meant to arouse, but to strengthen and awaken the bond that had lain dormant for so long.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, I call to our bond and awaken it."  
  
The elf prince gasped suddenly as a welcomed fire shot through him. He closed his eyes, opening himself up to the exquisite sensation. His breathing quickened, not wanting the fire to stop coursing through him. Perhaps he could lie with her tonight.  
  
"Nay, mel-nîn." She said hearing his thoughts, "You are not healed yet. I do not do this to arouse."  
  
"I know," he answered breathlessly, "I can not help how I feel."  
  
Ithilin leaned down and kissed him. His callused hands slid up from her slender waist to cup her soft breasts. He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her nipple, his mouth opening slightly to receive the rosy peak. She moaned with pleasure as his tongue danced over the sensitive skin.  
  
"Ai, Legolas!" She breathed as his mouth closed over her nipple and began to suckle it like a babe.  
  
:Just because my body is not responding to my desire, does not mean that I can not pleasure you.: he sent, rolling so that she lay beneath him. :While I have been forced to lie with another, you have gone with out.:  
  
:Yes, but . . .: her mind voice trailed off as her desire for him chased all coherent thought from her mind.  
  
His lips left her breast and trailed down her belly to her navel. Slowly his tongue dipped into the inviting crevice causing her to arch into him and eliciting a higher pitched cry of delight. Her hands were twined in his hair now forcing him to stay where he was.   
  
:You like that?: he asked, his tongue darting in again and received another high pitched moan.  
  
"Amme? Ada?" a young voice called in the starlit darkness.  
  
Legolas sighed. Every night for the past month Ararûn came to say goodnight. Yet it had not been an intrusion until now.  
  
:Sorry.: he sent as he laid down next to her and pulled her close.  
  
:It's all right, Naurorën. That was more than I expected.: Her mind voice laughed as she groped for the sheets and pulled them up over their naked bodies. Though Ararûn was born and raised of elves, neither of them wanted the child to feel embarrassed about walking in on his parents.  
  
"Come in, ion-nîn." Legolas called softly.  
  
"Do both of you have to go?" The boy asked tightly, fearing the answer.  
  
"I wish it were not so, little one, " Ithilin answered as she brushed her son's cheek with her hand. "I know that you are afraid that we will not return, but it is a risk that must be taken."  
  
"But why?" Ararûn crawled onto the bed and settled next to his father. "Amme, Ada, why must you risk your lives on this quest?"  
  
Legolas brushed his son's long blond hair out of his face, chuckling softly. "Ai, Ararûn. You're as bad as your mother, always giving me a face full of hair."  
  
Ararûn laughed and snuggled closer to him. Eventhough the Mirkwood prince had reentered his life only a month ago, the young elf had grown quite attached to his father. He was terrified of loosing both of his parents, but that fear was intensified at the thought of loosing his father. He was just getting to know him.  
  
""Why must you go?"  
  
"Oh, little one," the prince sighed, "Think you that we want to leave you?"  
  
"No." came the sullen answer.  
  
"Then do not fear our leaving. We do this so that you can live in freedom. The Darkness is swallowing up my homeland. It is trying to rid Middle Earth of all that is light and good. Already too many friends have I lost to Darkness not to fight it with all my strength."  
  
"But Ada, I don't want to loose you or Amme. You most of all."  
  
Legolas smiled and kissed the blond head resting against his shoulder, pulling the younger elf closer to him. "Ararûn, no matter what happens, you will never loose me or Amme. Our love for you will never fade. You must always believe that."  
  
For all that his son looked like an adult, he was still very much a child and it would be that way for another eighty years at least. Unfortunately, the child's fears were well founded. Legolas too, had resisted the idea of Ithilin going on this journey. His only concern was for their son, not that she could not handle what possibly lay ahead. He knew his mate well enough not to make the mistake of underestimating her.  
  
"But, then why does Amme have to go?"  
  
"To keep your father and your Uncle Estel out of trouble." Ithilin replied dryly. :He does not know yet, Legolas.:  
  
"I can't imagine why you think that Estel and I would get into trouble?" the prince said innocently, winking at his son with a mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes. :He doesn't need to yet, mel-nîn. It will only frighten him more.:  
  
Ithilin yanked the pillow out from under her mate's head and smacked him with it. "Just because you two are always dragging each other home half dead should be reason enough for me to go along. I doubt that Gandalf and that sorry excuse for a son of Gondor would be able to keep you two from getting killed."  
  
"Aye, Nauredhel, if you don't do me in first." He sat up and planted a kiss on her nose.  
  
Ararûn laughed at the comfortable exchange between his parents. He wished with all his heart that it could always be this way. That they did not have to leave him. 


	4. The Ring Goes South

Part Three: The Ring Goes South  
  
Ararûn stood some distance behind Arwen and the others. His silvery blue eyes filled with tears that he feared to shed. He wanted to call out to his parents not to go, not to desert him. The pain in his heart at the thought of not seeing either or both of them again, was almost too much for him to bear.  
  
"Ada! Amme!" he whimpered softly to the wind as his father and mother disappeared through the courtyard's gate following the little Hobbit. He saw his father's hand resting protectively on the small of his mother's back as he guided her before him. His father glanced back, his blue eyes locking on his son's. He tried to hide his distress, but his father knew.   
  
Legolas gazed steadily at his son. :You must hold on to hope, ion-nîn.: his mind whispered, not knowing whether his son had the same mental abilities as Ithilin. He chuckled as surprise flashed across the boy's face. He was a lot like his mother.  
  
:Ada?: came the young elf's tentative voice in his mind, :Can you hear me?:  
  
:Yes, ion-nîn.:  
  
:Can you hear Amme?:  
  
:Always.: He chuckled because at that moment Ithilin was humming the courting song in the back of his head.  
  
:Even when you were gone?:  
  
:Nay, little one. The distance was far too great.: Disappointment flooded through the link at his words. Apparently, Ararûn hoped he could keep in contact with one or both of them. :But that doesn't mean that I did not think of her often.:  
  
:Oh.:  
  
:Never doubt that we love you, little prince. Even if we are far away.:  
  
:I won't, Ada. I promise.:  
  
***  
  
Just over a fortnight later, they reached Hollin. Aragorn seemed restless. His silver eyes warily scanning their surroundings for the slightest hint of danger.   
  
Ithilin often found herself sleeping between the ranger and her mate. Tonight was no different until Boromir woke Legolas for his watch. The human waited until the elf was out of sight to pin her beneath his weight.  
  
"Scream and I will hurt you, my lady." The human whispered in her ear, his filthy hand pressing against her mouth.  
  
Startled, Ithilin's breath quickened. Panic rose in her throat as Boromir's free hand began unhooking the catches of her jerkin and cupped the mound of her breast. She shivered as she felt the man's tongue bath the slight point of her ear. Why was he doing this?  
  
She swallowed, her frightened eyes darting to where Aragorn lay sound asleep. How could she wake him? If she mind called to Legolas, it would be too late for him to do anything, even with his elven reflexes.  
  
:ARAGORN!: Her mind called frantically, :LEGOLAS!:  
  
Aragorn sat bolt upright as Legolas shot past him, throwing Boromir to the ground. The elf had drawn one of his knives, effectively pinning the human to the dirt.  
  
"Touch her again, human," he snarled in the common tongue making sure that Boromir understood him, "and you will wish you had stayed in Gondor."  
  
"I meant her no harm, master elf."  
  
"Then why were you straddled over her, Boromir." Aragorn asked, holding the trembling she-elf to him protectively. "I can't imagine what could have possessed you to do something like this?"  
  
"I wasn't going to hurt her. I swear."  
  
"Then why were you trying to undress her?" The prince's eyes flashed dangerously, pressing the knife into the soft flesh of the man's throat.   
  
Boromir squirmed, trying to avoid the sharp tip. He had grown tired of Ithilin's playful banter with Aragorn and Legolas. She even teased the old wizard. Aragorn and Legolas even had the gall to teach her to use a sword. She was a woman. She was meant to pleasure a man, not fight along side them. Women did not have the strength to fight. They didn't have the capacity for knowledge that men had. This was men's work. Keeping home and hearth waiting and birthing children was the work of women.  
  
"She is a woman." He said, as if that said it all.  
  
"So." The ranger and the elf chorused.  
  
"She has no place here. She is no warrior. Her place is at home birthing babies."  
  
Legolas gave an audible growl, as his dagger bit into the human's skin. "She has born a child, foolish man. She has fought a harder and longer battle then we now face. I swear, if I see you so much as look at her wrong I will slit your throat."  
  
"Sîdh, Legolas. She is not hurt."  
  
Reluctantly, the prince let Boromir up.   
  
"Forgive me, my lady." The human apologized, stepping toward her. However, the elf prince blocked his path. "but you are a woman. Not only that, you still seem to need the protection of a man."  
  
Ithilin broke from Aragorn's protective embrace and grabbed up her sword. The rune encrusted steel shimmered in the moonlight as she drew it from its sheath.  
  
"This false image of women that you have ends now, human," she spat darkly.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn both moved away from her, knowing full well what she was capable of. She was angry. Boromir had to learn the hard way that elf women were very different from human women.  
  
"Draw you sword, son of Gondor."  
  
"What?" he chuckled in disbelief. "You think you can fight me, little one?"  
  
"Yes. I'm going to beat this stupid notion about women out of your head by way of you arse, if necessary." She replied dryly, drawing snickers from her mate and the ranger.  
  
"I don't think so, my lady." He turned and walked away only to find himself walking headlong into Gandalf.  
  
"Going somewhere?" the wizard asked.  
  
"To sleep."  
  
"With a challenge hanging over you. Braver men than you could not sleep thus."  
  
Aragorn's and Legolas' laughter made his ears burn. He would not fight this woman. It was insane. She needed to be taught her place, but not like this. He had no desire to hurt her.  
  
"Draw it. NOW!" she growled.  
  
"Go easy on him, Ithilin. I think Elladan is still nursing his wounded pride after your last sparring session." Aragorn laughed, his silvery eyes dancing with mirth.  
  
Boromir unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready. He watched the little she-elf circle him, her blade dangling loosely in her hand.  
  
"You going to bail her out if she get herself in trouble?" the younger human asked the ranger.  
  
"She won't need me to, Boromir. If she can best my brothers, she'll have no problem with you."  
  
"She hasn't just bested them, Strider." The prince chuckled as he watched his mate feint at the young captain. "She took on all three of us and beat us soundly. I think I still have a bruise from that."  
  
Metal clanged against metal. Ithilin was holding her own against Boromir. Legolas enjoyed watching her. She had the grace and style of a dancer and the ruthlessness of a warrior. It wasn't long before they were locked hilt to hilt. Legolas smiled. He knew what her next move was.  
  
"Give up, little one?" The human said breathlessly.  
  
"Nope." She smirked, turning into him. Keeping their blades locked, she hooked one leg behind his knees and yanked his feet out from under him. Boromir toppled to the ground as she spun free. A smug grin crossed her face as she place a booted foot on the man's chest and tapped his chin with the tip of her sword. "Do you?"  
  
The look of surprise on Boromir's face completely undid the ranger and the prince. Both were laughing so hard, that they were holding each other up.  
  
"You've made your point." He said, slapping her blade away from his face.  
  
"Have I?" she said her blue eyes sparkling in the starlight. "Have you learned that I am not as helpless as the women of Gondor.?"  
  
"I have, my lady." Boromir answered sullenly. He had been bested by a woman and it didn't sit well. The elf and Aragorn were never going to let him live this down. The heat of his embarrassment flushed his cheeks as their laughter rang in his ears.  
  
"Have you also learned that I am not here for the pleasure of men?" her voice was low and angry. She had heard his thoughts. "I am not a toy. I please a man if I choose to, Boromir son of Denethor. You may be use to human women giving you what you want, but I am elf. I am not like the fragile human lap dogs that you are use to."  
  
Boromir's jaw dropped. Never, in all his years, had a woman spoke thus to him.   
  
"I think you've bitten off a little more than you can chew, Boromir." Aragorn's voice belied his mirth, eventhough his face was an unreadable mask.  
  
"No. A lot more, Strider." The elf laughed in the gray tongue, "She's fiery. She'll be able to keep him in his place."  
  
"I hope so, mellon-nîn. For your sake"  
  
Legolas gazed steadily at his friend. "I do not fear him. I only fear what she will do if he takes this any farther." 


	5. In the darkness of Khazaddum

Author's Note: A big thank you to my reviewers. I'm glad you like this story. I try to update often, so put it on your favorites list. Send me plot bugs, my pet meerkat likes to eat them.  
  
Additional Note: This part gets a little weird. Elves are little different from humans with the exception of a few things: the ability to walk on snow, to always look perfect even covered in orc blood, mind speech, glowing in the dark, and bound elven males have the ability to nurse their mates.  
  
Part Four: In The Darkness of Khazâd-dûm  
  
  
  
Ithilin stirred in her sleep. When Legolas was not on watch she slept at his side. If he was, she stayed close to Aragorn. He had chuckled the first night she curled up in his embrace. He teased her gently about not liking to sleep alone. The human knew that she did not want another confrontation with Boromir.  
  
Right now, her head rested against Legolas' chest, his arm draped over her slim shoulders. She stirred again, coming fully awake. Raising her head slightly, she peered about. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Frodo was on watch. Everyone else was asleep. The strong scent of moonflowers filled her nose. And something else. Something she couldn't identify. She lifted her head a little more, trying to get away from her mate's scent to identify the strange smell. As she did so, the cool night air brushed across the cheek that had lain against Legolas chilling the skin and making her shiver. Suddenly, she realized that her cheek was wet. She sat up, the sudden movement waking the elf.  
  
"What is it?" he asked groggily, seeing the perplexed look on her face.  
  
"I'm not sure." She answered.  
  
"Ai! Not again!" he hissed softly, pulling his jerkin and tunic away from his body. "Ithilin, this is the third night in a row."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You apparently sweat a little too much, a'maelamin."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Would you rather have me say that you drool worse than an orc?"  
  
"I do not."  
  
Aragorn gazed blearily over his shoulder at them, "Sorry to ruin your lover's quarrel, but the rest of us are trying to sleep."  
  
"She drooled all over me." The elf said indignantly.  
  
"No, I didn't. Besides you haven't minded certain things in the past, why start now."  
  
"That's because it's cold."  
  
"I swear, you are so vain."  
  
"Legolas, are you sure it's drool or sweat?" Aragorn questioned.  
  
"What else would it be?" Both of them asked.  
  
Aragorn moved closer to the prince. He laid his hand against the wet spot on Legolas' jerkin then brought it to his nose. As he dropped his hand from his face a cockeyed grin tugged at his mouth.  
  
"How long have you two been bound?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle.  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes at his friend, "Twenty years, you nift. Or have you forgotten?"  
  
"But it lay dormant all those years, didn't it?"  
  
"Yes, but what has that to do with a wet shirt?"  
  
"Did you awaken the bond?"  
  
"Yes . . ." Ithilin's voice trailed off as understanding lit her blue eyes. "Oh Valar!"  
  
"What?" Legolas was still puzzled.  
  
"It's milk." Aragorn and Ithilin said simultaneously.  
  
"It's what?!"  
  
Aragorn tried not to laugh at the expression on the prince's face. Legolas had no experience with this, being a royal. None of his family was bound, nor were any of his friends. The poor elf didn't understand what was happening.  
  
The ranger sighed heavily and ran a hand through his dark hair. How was he going to explain this? Surely the prince had seen elflings at the breast.  
  
"Legolas, you've seen babes with their mothers haven't you?"   
  
"Aye. But you're not suggesting that I treat Ithilin that way, are you?"  
  
"Not completely, no. Infants are totally dependent on their mother's milk, she is not. " Aragorn was surprised at how well the elf was taking this. "Right now, it seems that you have two choices. You can either follow your instincts or ignore it."  
  
The elf gazed at his mate, searching for understanding.   
  
"The need is not great yet, Legolas. It can wait." She said softly. "But to keep it at bay, I can not sleep beside you."  
  
He shook his head as he began unhooking the catches on his jerkin and tunic. He kissed her gently and smiled. "If you need this, a'maelamin, then you shall have it."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
He pulled her into his strong embrace, his tunic falling open as he laid back. "Yes."  
  
Ithilin nuzzled his neck affectionately before settling against him.  
  
The prince's eyes closed in bliss as he felt her lips against his skin. He shifted his position so that he was curled around her and so she was shielded somewhat by his body.  
  
"If you say anything about this," he warned the ranger, brushing his long hair over his shoulder, "I swear you will not see another sunrise."  
  
"You should not find shame in this, mellon-nîn. As far as I'm concerned, you've reached the pinnacle of elven manhood." Aragorn settled back on his bedroll with his back to the pair. "I've seen this many times over the years. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Lindir to name a few."  
  
"Aye, mellon-nîn, *you* have. But the others here with us have not. I have no desire to defend my masculinity against some fool who does not understand elves as well as you."  
  
Aragorn chuckled. All things considering, Legolas was adjusting to this turn of events very well. He looked back over his shoulder. The elf's eyes were beginning to glaze in sleep. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his slender mouth as his mate's hand slid up his chest.  
  
"Breathe a word of this and you're dead, Strider." The prince slurred sleepily.  
  
"I promise, mellon-nîn."  
  
***  
  
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted as the dwarf broke from the group, heading for an open hall.  
  
The dwarf fell to his knees before a large stone slab, sobbing. His cousin was dead, as were all the dwarves of Moria. He barely noticed the others filing in behind him.  
  
"It is as I feared." Gandalf said softly as he picked up a dusty book. Opening it he began to read. "They have taken the Seventh Hall . . ."  
  
Legolas pulled Ithilin to him as he unbuckled his quiver harness.  
  
"Not here." She whispered.  
  
"I'm not giving you a choice." He hissed back. "You've let me go too long."  
  
"Legolas, we are in too much danger here. Can you not feel it?"  
  
"Aye. But I need you to take care of this now. It's painful."  
  
Ithilin sighed. She was well aware of the pain he was feeling, having nursed Ararûn. "All right. But just enough to take the pressure off."  
  
Quickly she unhooked the clasps on his tunic. A low moan of relief escaped his throat as she released the tension in his breast. Unconsciously, his hand slid up to cup the back of her head. His eyes were half closed as he tilted his head down burying his nose in her soft, golden hair.  
  
Aragorn glanced in their direction at the sound and stifled a grin. They were taking a big risk doing this out in the open. The prince had to be very uncomfortable, to insist she do this now.   
  
Just as Ithilin shifted to the other side, Boromir turned. He grinned smugly, eyeing the elf. "What's this?" he asked.  
  
Legolas' eyes popped open in surprise. He pulled the little she-elf closer to him, protectively.   
  
Realizing what was happening Ithilin began hooking the clasps on his tunic as she tried desperately to get one last draw of milk. She stepped away from him as he buckled the harness back in place, a large pearl of the pure white liquid trickling out of the corner of her mouth.   
  
Boromir chuckled darkly, realizing what he had just witnessed. "So now we know your weakness, Master Elf." he said as he strode toward them.  
  
"Boromir, leave them be." Aragorn stepped between them. He knew Legolas well enough to know the elf hated being cornered on something he felt was very private. And when cornered, he became dangerous.  
  
"No, Aragorn. It appears that your elf friend has more female attributes than that she-elf." He sneered.   
  
"Don't start something, Boromir." The ranger pleaded. "Elves are not just the warriors you've heard about in tales."  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"No. They are lovers, spouses, and mates, just as humans are."  
  
"They are wet nurses too, it seems."   
  
Aragorn shook his head. Boromir could not see how a race of fierce warriors could be such sensuous, loving creatures. To Aragorn, having grown up around elves, what Legolas was doing was the epitome of manhood.  
  
"This does not change who he is. He is still very much a deadly warrior, Boromir."  
  
"No, Aragorn. This is a weakness. And one we can not afford."  
  
Legolas drew his bow and nocked an arrow to the string in one fluid movement, aiming the shaft at the man's head. "You are less a man than I first thought, son of Gondor." He hissed, "If you must know, Ithilin is my bondmate. What I give her, only serves to strengthen the bond between us. It is *not* a weakness."  
  
"So, in the middle of a battle, you'd drop everything just for this?"  
  
"Only infants can not suppress their hunger. Ithilin is an adult. The need, though strong, can be ignored. By both of us if necessary."   
  
"The weakness of Men," Ithilin said in a deadly soft voice, laying her hand on Legolas' bow arm, "is lack of tolerance for things beyond their meager ability to understand. If you harass him further about this, you will answer to me. Is that clear?"  
  
"Is that a threat, little one?"  
  
"Yes. And I rarely make idle ones. Ask Aragorn."  
  
The hollow sound of a skull hitting rock distracted their attention.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf growled dropping the book to the ground, "throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity."  
  
The little hobbit cringed before the wizard, clutching the Istari's staff for support.  
  
A deep drumming sound echoed through the hall, *doom . . . doom, doom . . . doom, doom, doom *, followed by a ululating cry.  
  
"Orcs!" Legolas hissed, reaching for Ithilin.  
  
Boromir raced to the door, closing it just seconds after two orc arrows embedded themselves in the rotting wood. "They have a cave troll." He said catching the halberd Legolas tossed at him to brace the door closed.  
  
"Ithilin," he said softly as he grabbed up another axe and tossed it to Aragorn, "You do not have to fight. I will not think less of you."  
  
"Iston, mel-nîn" she answered, drawing her own bow and nocking an arrow to the string.  
  
"Stay close Gandalf," Aragorn called to the hobbits, pulling his bow from its sheath on his back.  
  
The door creaked as the horde outside fell against it. Ithilin and Legolas released their arrows as one, listening to the beasts screech as the shafts found their mark. Finally the wood gave way and orcs spilled into the chamber. The three archers abandoned their bows for knives and swords in the press of bodies.   
  
Boromir happened to glance in the she-elf direction. The feral look in her sapphire eyes was enough to give him pause. He watched in awe as, with one stroke of her elven blade, she severed the heads of three orcs and connected with the sword of another. She, like Legolas, was almost a blur of green and gold. She twisted and swerved from the orcs blades with the grace and ease of a dancer. Yet her powerful blows were something to be feared. She was proving to be much fiercer than the tales he'd been told about she-elves.  
  
"Frodo!" Aragorn called as the little hobbit fell beneath the troll's spear. "Frodo, no!"  
  
Merry and Pippin threw themselves onto the beasts back, attacking the thing ferociously with their short swords. Legolas nocked an arrow and let it fly, striking the creature in the soft skin of its throat. The hideous thing moaned then fell to the floor, dead.  
  
The fellowship gathered around Aragorn who cradled the fallen hobbit in his arms. Suddenly, the little being gasped and coughed. His dark eyes blinked open, as if he were surprised that he was still alive.  
  
"Frodo, that spear would have skewered a wild boar!" the ranger breathed in disbelief.  
  
"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said seeing a silver glint under the hobbit's shirt.  
  
Frodo opened his shirt. Underneath was a shiny corslet of Mithril, the neck of which was laced with scrolling leaves of green and gold.  
  
"Mithril!" Gimli breathed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."  
  
"Here's a pretty hobbit skin to wrap an elven princeling in." Aragorn smiled giving Legolas a small nod. He knew that the prince wore one similar to it. In fact, the leaf pattern suggested that it had once been Legolas' many centuries ago.  
  
"I wondered what had happened to that." Legolas whispered to Ithilin. "Ararûn should have had it, yet I am glad that Frodo has it now."  
  
"Where would Ararûn have worn it?" she chuckled.  
  
"I don't know, maybe archery lessons?" he replied sarcastically.  
  
"It wouldn't have done *him* any good, a'maelamin. Elladan or Elrohir, maybe. But not him."  
  
The elf's quiet silver laughter filled the chamber. The thought of his son misfiring and accidentally hitting one of the twins was funny.  
  
"What's so humorous?" the ranger asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two elves.  
  
"Your brothers needing mithril coats around Ararûn." Ithilin chuckled.  
  
"That was before I came back home." Aragorn grinned. "They looked like walking pincushions, I'm told."  
  
Legolas lost it. The idea of the twins walking into the house with arrow shafts sticking out at odd angles from their bodies and rather disgruntled looks on their faces was too much for the Mirkwood prince.  
  
Shrieks echoed through the halls. Orcs, lots of them, were heading in their direction.  
  
"To the bridge of Khazâd-dûm!" Gandalf shouted, leading them out of the chamber.  
  
The screams came from everywhere. The dark creatures boiled up out of the cracks in the floor, from the ceiling, surrounding them on all sides. The company was trapped in an ever shrinking circle of light.  
  
Suddenly, a low growl rumbled through the dwarf city. The orcs gave a shuddering cry and began to scatter as a sinister red glow appeared in one of the doorways.  
  
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, his clear blue eyes wide with fear.  
  
Gandalf closed his eyes as if trying to remember something from the far distant past. "A Balrog." He said finally, "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Swords are of no more use here. Run!"  
  
No one needed any encouragement. They fled through an open door and down a flight of stairs. Boromir came to an abrupt halt as the steps gave way to nothingness. He teetered on the edge until Legolas grabbed him and pulled him to safety.  
  
"Thank you." He said, his heart was pounding in his ears.  
  
The elf nodded in acknowledgment, intent getting out of this dark, orc infested hell hole. He pushed Ithilin before him, keeping a hand on her quiver harness in unlikely event that she slipped. Coming to a break in the stairs, he grabbed her by the waist and jumped, landing gracefully on the other side.  
  
"Gandalf!" he called to the Istari.   
  
An orc arrow whistled past, just missing the wizard. Ithilin ducked out of her bow and fired off a rapid succession of arrows. The stairway was crumbling beneath the others before they could jump to safety. Another volley of arrows sang past, one grazing her bow arm as she released another barrage of her own. She hissed in pain but pushed the sensation out of her mind.   
  
All but Estel and Frodo were across now. The gap had widened too far for them to jump. The whole chamber shuddered and a piece of the ceiling came crashing down on the stairway just behind the hobbit and the ranger.  
  
"Hold on Frodo!" she heard him shout as more arrows sliced the air around them.   
  
Her arrows were spent. Quickly, she reached for Legolas' and fired. Frodo and Aragorn needed all the time they could give them.  
  
The stone stair rocked back and forth finally falling into the stair below. Legolas caught the ranger, keeping him from falling over the side as he landed.  
  
They raced the rest of the way to the bridge. Gandalf stopped, allowing the others to get ahead of him.   
  
"Over the bridge!" he commanded, turning back to face the demon, "Fly!"  
  
Again, Legolas pushed her in front of him, his hand never leaving the quiver harness. As they reached the other side, they turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge.   
  
The Balrog cracked its whip, the sound made chills crawl up their spines.  
  
"You shall not pass!" the Istari cried, striking the stone of the bridge with his staff. "I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow!"  
  
The winged demon's whip cracked again. Ithilin clung to her mate in fear.  
  
"You shall not pass!" His staff hit the stone one final time, shattering as it made contact.  
  
As the Balrog stepped onto the bridge, the stone gave way under its weight, sending it plummeting into the gaping chasm. Gandalf turned to head across, but the whip wrapped around his foot, pulling the Istari off the ledge.  
  
"NO!" Aragorn exclaimed.  
  
"Gandalf!" yelled Frodo.  
  
"ADAR!" Ithilin cried, struggling against Legolas' strong arms.  
  
"Fly, you fools!" he said breathlessly as he lost his hand hold and fell into darkness.  
  
"NO!" the little hobbit sobbed, fighting Boromir's strangle hold on him as the human half carried half dragged the small being out of the east gate.  
  
"Adar, no." she said in a choked whisper, "You were suppose to help me finish this."  
  
Legolas didn't have time to think about what she had just said. Dodging arrows, he picked her up and ran for the gate, grateful to be out of that terrible darkness. 


	6. The Gift of Varda

Part Five: The Gift of Varda  
  
"Legolas, get them up." Aragorn commanded, wiping the orc blood from his sword.  
  
The elf nodded slowly, still numb from the fall of the Istari. Long, had he known the wizard and the grief he felt was keen, but nothing compared to his mate's. The look in her blue eyes, as he pulled her to her feet, was one of utter despair  
  
"Tula, mel-nîn," he whispered softly, seeing the unshed tears in her eyes.  
  
"Give them a moment, for pity's sake." Boromir shouted angrily.  
  
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs." The ranger said. "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." He stopped next to Sam, his hand on the hobbit's arm, " Come on, Sam. Frodo?"  
  
The ring bearer was heading off alone. His pain made him deaf to the shouts of his companions.  
  
"Frodo!"  
  
The little being turned back, gazing forlornly at Aragorn. They could never understand. This was all his fault.  
  
***  
  
Hours later, they came under the canopy of the tall slender Mallorn trees of Lothlórien. The group moved as quietly as they could considering the crunchy leaves on the ground.  
  
"Stay close, young hobbits." Gimli hissed softly. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again." The dwarf eyed their surroundings cautiously, "Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the Eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox. OH!"  
  
Out of nowhere, a host of bows appeared pointing directly at the company. Legolas and Ithilin both quickly nocked arrows to strings, wavering from target to target.  
  
"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." A tall, husky elf sneered, stepping between the archers. His gaze fell immediately on Ithilin. He licked his lips, a lustful glint coming to his blue eyes.  
  
"Haldir o Lórien. Henion aníron, boe ammen I dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn." Aragorn had seen where the guardian's gaze had landed and was trying desperately to divert the elf's attention away from the little she-elf.  
  
"Aragorn, these woods are perilous!" Gimli said, trying to shift away from the arrows pointing at his head. "We should go back!"  
  
The guardian was not so easily distracted, "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You can not go back." His gaze lighted on the young woman again and desire kindled in the depths of the sapphire orbs. "Come. She is waiting."  
  
With that he turned and led the way through the forest to their camp.  
  
***  
  
The sickle moon shone dimly overhead. Ithilin and Legolas stood together, her arms loosely circling his waist. A light breeze combed through her tangled locks as Legolas smoothed it soothingly against her back. His tunic and jerkin hung open and her head rested heavily against his bare chest. Her eyes were partially closed in a sated half slumber.   
  
At the moment, he was thankful that Ithilin stood shorter than himself. Not only because his body shielded her from prying eyes, but also giving her the nourishment she needed would have proven to be quite awkward in this position if she was his height or taller. He sighed softly, squeezing his eyes shut against the weariness that was beginning to grab hold of him. If only Aragorn would stop arguing with the guardian, they could possibly get some well deserved rest.   
  
"We need your protection, Haldir." Aragorn pleaded angrily, "The road is too dangerous."  
  
"Then why did you bring the woman?" Said the tall elf, nodding in Legolas' direction. "She has no place in this company."  
  
"She is here at Gandalf's insistence."  
  
"She will hinder you at best. Get you all killed at worst." Haldir hissed.  
  
"You don't understand, Haldir." Aragorn said shaking his head. "She has to be here."  
  
"You're right, I don't." the guardian growled. The human was evading the reason the woman was with them. "If you do not trust me, then I can not help you."  
  
"I can not give what I do not have." He said shrugging helplessly, "Speak to Ithilin or Legolas. Perhaps they can give you a reason."  
  
"I shall." Haldir turned and walked toward the prince.  
  
He smiled slightly when the smaller elf jerked almost imperceptibly at his touch, "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion."  
  
"Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien." Legolas answered, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment.  
  
"I won't waist my breath on pleasantries, young one." The elder elf said harshly,   
  
"Good. Because you will get none from me." Legolas answered, meeting Haldir's steely gaze defiantly. He was well aware that the other elf's interest in his mate went beyond the desire to keep his realm safe.   
  
"Why is she here?"  
  
"Gandalf said she must do something before this is finished. Neither of us know what it is yet, but it will possibly claim her life."  
  
Haldir looked down at the woman whose blond head lay against the prince's chest. She seemed so helpless. How easy it would be to take her from this youngster. He reached out to touch the honey colored hair, to brush it away from the beautiful face he had seen earlier, but his hand was swatted away by the younger elf. Anger flashed over his features.  
  
"You have no rights here, little one."  
  
"More than you, heru-nîn." Legolas hissed.  
  
Haldir bristled. How dare this young one speak to him thus. He raised his hand to backhand the prince. He was not about to let this youngling off lightly. Others had died for less.  
  
"Do it," the prince said calmly, staring icily at the elder elf. "but I will not be held responsible for my actions."  
  
Aragorn watched the exchange with growing alarm. Legolas was defending Ithilin like a stag protecting a doe. Growing up around mated elves, the ranger knew how quickly this stand off could escalate in to bloodshed. And that was the last thing they needed right now.  
  
"Legolas," he called quietly, trying to break the tension between the two male elves. "Is she asleep?"  
  
"Yes." The prince was still not backing down.  
  
The ranger stood and went to the elf's side. "Back off." He whispered in his friend's ear as he gathered up Ithilin's sleeping form, "We can not afford bloodshed."  
  
"Tell that to him, not me." The prince hissed back, his eyes not leaving Haldir's.  
  
"I will. But you are the younger of the two, so you must back down first."  
  
"And look like I'm conceding. No."  
  
Why did elves have to be so damned hard headed sometimes? "Do you trust her?"  
  
"Yes."   
  
"Then back off."  
  
Slowly, Legolas backed down. He hadn't felt threatened by Boromir when he tried to take her back in Hollin. The human was clumsy and Ithilin had taught him a valuable lesson about messing with elves, she-elves to be exact. Now faced with his own kind trying to take her away from him, he wasn't sure what to do. All he knew for sure was that he was bound heart and soul to Ithilin and he would fight to the death to keep her, if needs be. But he also knew that Aragorn was right. He could not be the one who started a fight over her. He had to trust her.  
  
"Come and rest, mellon-nîn." Aragorn said, carrying Ithilin over to where the rest of the fellowship had bedded down for the night. He hoped that the elf would follow. They were all exhausted.   
  
Legolas lay down on his bedroll, fighting to keep control over his body. He could not allow the older elf to see his hands shake. He could not show weakness. He curled around Ithilin's body as Aragorn laid her next to him, holding her tightly to him and buried his face in her hair. Her scent calmed him and he began to relax.   
  
"I love you." He whispered as he drifted off, the gentle scent of simbelmynë enveloping him like a soft caress.  
  
***  
  
The next day they reached Caras Galadhon at twilight and were brought before the Lord and Lady. Their bright silver light shone like moonlight in the dimness of the trees.   
  
"Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell." The Lord of Lothlórien said gazing at each of the fellowship in turn finally coming to rest on Ithilin. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."  
  
Aragorn gazed sadly at the pair, the answer plain in his gray eyes.  
  
"He has fallen into shadow." She too gazes at the fellowship, her piercing blue eyes stopping on the little she-elf.  
  
Legolas heard a stifled sob beside him. Tears streamed unchecked down Ithilin's pale cheeks, her slender shoulders shaking with the force of her silent sorrow. The prince reached out to her, taking her small hand in his own.  
  
"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all." Galadriel's voice echoed ominously, shifting her gaze to Boromir who desperately avoided her penetrating stare. The Lady's voice softened slightly as she smiled at Sam, "Yet hope remains, while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." Again Galadriel's gaze fell on Ithilin. "Tonight you will sleep in peace."  
  
As they were dismissed, Celeborn stopped Ithilin. "Come with me, Valariel." He said softly. He smiled as the son of Thranduil reluctantly let go of her hand. "She will come to no harm, young one." Celeborn reassured the prince as he led her out another way, "I will bring her to your camp soon."  
  
The prince nodded, worry etched in his sapphire eyes. She was grieving deeply and he could not reach her. He had to trust that the Lord of Lothlórien would not hurt her.  
  
"Do not worry, young one. I am aware of your bond." The elf lord's eyes were calm and soothing as he saw the younger elf visibly relax, "I do not challenge your claim. Though, there will be others who will. She will be safe in my care."  
  
The prince smiled tentatively, "I know."  
  
"I will bring her soon."  
  
***  
  
Celeborn watched the young woman as she sat by the bubbling fountain. Her golden hair tumbled about her slender shoulders like a fall of sunlight. Yet the light in her beautiful eyes had gone out. If this was truly the daughter of Varda, then Manwë could not be her father. She appeared far to human to be sired by the King of the Valar.  
  
"Hên, why has thy light faded?" he asked softly.  
  
"Adar is gone." She answered tightly, a silver tear slid down her pale cheek and landed on her hand. "I do not know where to go from here."  
  
Celeborn sat beside her, pulling her into his embrace. It had been so long ago. He had been a young man then and not yet wed to Galadriel. Gandalf, too, had been younger then. Elbereth. The queen of the Valar. All light and song. A radiant beauty, crowned with stars, stars that he could see in this young elf maid's eyes.  
  
"You speak of Gandalf, little one?"  
  
"Aye, heru-nîn."  
  
"You are the one that has been looked for. The Coithuliel."  
  
She nodded. "I do not know what I am to do."  
  
"Sometimes the path that seems hidden, is not." The elf lord said kissing the top of her head, smiling when she chuckled.  
  
"You are a lot like Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn. You speak in riddles"  
  
He held her at arms length. The spark of life slowly kindled in her eyes again. "I will take that as a compliment, young one. The road is before you. It is a dark one. Filled with terrible pain. But you have to remember that you are never alone."  
  
"Legolas."  
  
"Yes, Ithilin. That young stag would stay with you to the end."  
  
"The bond will be tested again."  
  
"Yes. You can see the path you must take now that your sorrow has lessened, can't you?"  
  
She nodded. "Will it survive?"  
  
"That is yet unknown, hên But you must trust your heart. And his."   
  
Author's Note: More elvish is used in these scenes. Here's the translation.  
  
"Haldir o Lórien. Henion aníron, boe ammen I dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn" (Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help. We need your protection.)  
  
"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion." (Well met, Legolas son of Thranduil.)  
  
"Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien." (Our fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien.) 


	7. Sword Dance

Part Six: Sword Dance  
  
She watched as he walked back toward the camp. He had shed his jerkin and vambraces in favor of his soft silver-blue silk tunic and gray-green suede leggings.  
  
Above in the trees, elves could be heard singing.  
  
Legolas looked up as he carried a pitcher of water over to the hobbits. "A lament for Gandalf." He whispered.  
  
"What do they say about him?" Merry asked following the elf's gaze.  
  
"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near."  
  
Ithilin walked up beside him, "Can I ease your grief, herven-nîn?"  
  
Legolas smiled, her eyes were dancing again. Setting the pitcher down near the hobbits, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and full, tasting every inch of her soft petal pink lips. The last time they had kissed like this had been in Rivendell. He stepped closer to her as her hands grabbed his tunic. His lips left her mouth and trailed along the line of her jaw. She moaned softly as he playfully nibbled at her ear. Her hands slid up his silk tunic and began unhooking the silver clasps. He gasped as he felt her fingers caress his skin, pushing the soft fabric from his slender shoulders.  
  
"Ai, not here love!" he chuckled, slipping into elvish as he shrugged his shirt back on. "We wouldn't want to frighten the hobbits."  
  
"You'd think, with the way they are staring, they had never seen elves kiss before."  
  
Legolas laughed. "Not like that, I bet."  
  
Merry and Pippin stood watching them, eyes wide and mouths open.   
  
Legolas nipped the tip of her ear, playfully. Her body arched toward his in response. Then she broke away and tugged at his hand, wanting him to follow her.   
  
"Do you think that they're lovers, Merry?" Pippin asked as he watched the two elves disappear into the surrounding forest.  
  
Meriadoc looked at his friend incredulously, "Would they have done that, if they weren't?"  
  
"I don't know how it is with elves."  
  
"I don't either, Pip. But they're obviously not shy about it, whatever they are."  
  
***  
  
Legolas found a small secluded clearing and laid down on a bed of leaves pulling Ithilin with him. She straddled his waist, her hands sliding up his chest brushing his tunic open. He gasped as her lips contacted the skin at the base of his throat. A small moan escaped him as her tongue slid up the soft flesh of his throat to his ear.   
  
"Ai Iluvatar!" he breathed as he felt her teeth close on the tip of his ear. "What you do to me!"  
  
She had him completely undone. He couldn't move anymore than to support her weight above him. Fire and desire were coursing along their bond. He could feel her need yet at the same time his body refused to respond to that desire. He had never wanted her like this before, yet he was powerless to act.  
  
He cried out in frustration.  
  
"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, seeing the tears in his eyes.  
  
"I want you." He panted, "But my body will not stir."  
  
She smiled tenderly at him, "I know, a'maelamin. I will do all I can to give you some sort of release."  
  
Legolas drew her into a kiss, hungry and passionate. He wanted this, no needed this. His hands slid up and down her clothed body as her mouth traced the line of his jaw down his neck to his chest. Her lips closed over one of his nipples and it was all he could do to keep from arching into her, until she began to tease it and suck on it at the same time. His eyes flew open wide and he gasped in shear pleasure at the sensation. He couldn't stop the cry of joy that ripped from his throat as his back arched.  
  
Ithilin came back up and kissed him, her mouth still half full of his milk. She let the sweet, warm liquid trickle into his mouth, letting him taste the sweetness of their bond.  
  
"Here lies the Prince of Mirkwood." A voice sneered from behind the tree.  
  
"Haldir?" the prince gasped.  
  
"Get up." The guardian commanded.  
  
Legolas scrambled to his feet, keeping himself between Haldir and Ithilin. He felt his silk tunic sliding from his arms as he stood. He knew what the elder elf wanted, and he wasn't about to let him have it willingly.   
  
"You know what I want, little one."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then let's get this over with, son of Thranduil" He said drawing his sword.  
  
"I will not fight you, Haldir." Legolas said evenly.  
  
The guardian smiled contemptuously. "Then you forfeit any rights you might have had."  
  
"I am bound to her."  
  
"Not if you will not defend it. A poor choice indeed, my lady. Sylvan's are so backward."  
  
Haldir reached out and pulled Ithilin to him, kissing her roughly. Ithilin drew back and slapped him across the face. He smiled as he crushed her against him, his tongue forcing itself into her mouth.  
  
Legolas' eyes blazed. He knew Ithilin was strong but not strong enough to fend off a battle hardened elf. "Let her go." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but deadly.  
  
"Make me. Defend what you say is yours, princeling."  
  
"Here laddie!" came the gruff voice of Gimli as he tossed Legolas' knives to him.  
  
"I said 'let her go', Haldir." He crossed the long knives in front of him. He knew he had the advantage of being smaller and lighter than his opponent.   
  
Haldir gave Ithilin one more crushing kiss and tossed her to the ground. He shed his jerkin and tunic then brought his sword to the ready. The soft moonlight danced over his light bronze skin, kissing the well formed hard muscles on his chest, back, and shoulders. He made the younger elf look scrawny.  
  
Though not as visibly muscled, Legolas was built like a hunting cat. Lithe and beautiful and deadly when provoked. He appeared weaker because of his slight stature, but he was really frighteningly strong. His hair fell over his deceptively fragile shoulders as he stared at the elf across from him.  
  
Their blades connected with a clang of steel on steel. The two elves pushed away from one another, trying to stare the other down. They twisted and spun, pale golden hair fanning out around them. Again and again their blades clashed, each time the dance became faster and more lethal. Their movements began to blur, their eyes locked on one another with deadly intent. Only one could walk away from the Sword Dance, unless the victor chose to spare the loser's life.  
  
"What's going on?!" Aragorn breathed as he entered the clearing, seeing his friend locked in combat with the Lórien guardian.  
  
"Do not interfere, laddie." Gimli said holding the ranger back.  
  
"I told him not to do this."  
  
"It matters not. It has already begun." Ithilin answered.  
  
"We can not afford this. What will happen if he is injured or worse, killed?"  
  
Ithilin shook her head and smiled. Aragorn still underestimated the prince, even after such a long friendship. She knew what he was capable of. In the two months before the fellowship left Rivendell, she and Legolas had many sparring sessions. Though she would never be able to match his strength, she would not let him hold back to keep from hurting her. She had told him that if she was going to be fighting alongside men she might as well learn how the counter their strength. Reluctantly he had agreed, but was taken by surprise when she pinned him to the floor.  
  
Clang! Skrieeeech! Clang!   
  
Haldir was beginning to show signs of tiring, yet Legolas was quite the opposite. He was barely even sweating. One well placed kick and the Lórien elf landed on his back, the air knocked from his lungs and his sword flew from his hand.  
  
"Do you yield?" Legolas said, panting slightly as he pressed one of his knives to the older elf's throat.  
  
"Get it over with." Haldir growled, angry that he had been bested by this child prince.  
  
"No. I will let you live, Haldir." He said offering the guardian his hand. "But you will make no further attempts to take Ithilin."  
  
The stunned elf nodded and took the proffered hand.  
  
Legolas easily pulled Haldir to his feet. "No hard feelings?"  
  
Surprise flashed across the guardian's face. "I was wrong, forgive me."  
  
"Ú-moe edaved, Haldir." A genuine smile lit up the younger elf's features. "You are a worthy opponent."  
  
Ithilin retrieved his tunic and handed it to him.  
  
"Do you realize what you have, young one?" Haldir said looking at Ithilin  
  
"Aye, mellon-nîn." Legolas answered calmly as he shrugged the light blue silk over his shoulders, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "The Coithuliel."  
  
Haldir's eyes went wide and he swallowed hard as he watched them leave the clearing. Had he really fought the son of Thranduil for the daughter of Varda? And lost?  
  
"I don't deserve you." Legolas chuckled, giving her a quick kiss.  
  
"With that kind of display?" she laughed as they walked, hand in hand, back into their camp, "It is I who should be saying that, Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Elvish translations:  
  
"Ú-moe edaved, Haldir." (There is nothing to forgive, Haldir.)  
  
Coithuliel literally means "daughter of the breath of life" 


	8. The Breaking of the Fellowship

Part Seven: The Breaking of the Fellowship  
  
Gimli took Ithilin's hand and helped her into the boat as Legolas finished loading their gear. Aragorn stood some distance away with Celeborn, talking quietly with the Elf Lord.  
  
"It is good to see you and the elf together, my lady" the dwarf said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "It always seemed right, somehow."  
  
"Did it now, Lord Gimli?" Ithilin laughed, "Do you still think us elves strange creatures?"  
  
"Aye, that I do, Lady Ithilin. Yet, your strangeness suits you."  
  
"Hannon le, Ai'atar." She said kissing his cheek, causing the dwarf to turn redder than his hair.  
  
Legolas' eyes danced with barely concealed mirth. He had grown rather fond of the course dwarf, as the smaller being doted upon Ithilin like a kindly father.   
  
"She's mine, dwarf." He said, his tone mock threatening though his eyes betrayed his laughter.  
  
"Aye, I know that." Gimli growled. "But you'd better keep her on a short tether if you want to keep her, or she'll be wooing every male in striking distance."  
  
The elf choked on his laughter, "And she doesn't half try."  
  
"Careful," Ithilin warned teasingly, "I might just push you in the river, my Greenleaf."  
  
"You'd be coming with me." He shot back, grinning wickedly as he tipped the boat precariously.  
  
***  
  
"Ithilin, you need to eat!" Legolas hissed quietly as she lay down next to him. Ten days out from Lothlórien and Ithilin had barely taken any sustenance. He was getting worried.  
  
She nuzzled into his neck, seeing his warmth. "I can not."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Our paths will separate very soon, I fear."  
  
He could see it in her eyes. Every minute they spent together, now, was precious to her. "Must it be?"  
  
"I would that it didn't have to be. I would that the ring had been destroyed three thousand years ago and we could live in peace with all the races of Middle Earth, but it is not as I wish. May Ilúvatar grant you and the rest a safer road."  
  
"How soon?"  
  
"Very." She answered burrowing closer to him and playing with the hooks on his jerkin.  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
"Not unless you are uncomfortable."  
  
"Come," he whispered gently as he unhooked his jerkin and tunic. "It will ease your heart."  
  
The eyes that looked back at him were filled with a sadness he had never seen there before. She had mourned Gandalf's passing, but that sadness had been one of loss. This was something that spoke of fear and acceptance.  
  
"Eat." He said pulling her to his breast. She nuzzled him, her face wet with silent tears. As her lips closed over one of his nipples, he sighed heavily. He knew, in his heart, that this would be the last time for a while. "No matter what happens, Ithilin. No matter where you are. I will find you." Tears were streaking down his pale cheeks now as he held her tighter against him and kissed the top of her head. "You are mine. My heart and soul. In the darkest days of my life, you were my hope. I will love you until the end of days, my joy, my desire, my reason for living."  
  
***  
  
They reached Parth Galen near mid afternoon the next day and made camp on the beach.  
  
Ithilin took a deep breath and slipped away from the camp, noticed only by her mate. He knew that she had to do this. He knew, too, that he could not follow, however much his heart wanted him to.  
  
Legolas watched her for some time until she was out of sight, then turned to Aragorn.  
  
"We should leave now."  
  
"No." the ranger said glancing over his shoulder toward the other side of the lake. "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."  
  
"It is not the eastern shore that worries me." Legolas said, not really knowing what Ithilin faced out there. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near . . . I can feel it!"  
  
Aragorn looked around. "Where's Ithilin?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Gone." The torment in the elf's eyes and voice was unmistakable.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"She had to . . ." Legolas' soft voice broke. He couldn't continue, it was too painful.  
  
"Go after her, you nift."  
  
The elf swallowed hard and shook his blond head sadly, "I can not."  
  
"If you won't, I will."  
  
"No, mellon-nîn." He said putting a light but restraining hand on the human's shoulder. "She must do this alone. Neither of us can help her now."  
  
Aragorn looked into the elf's eyes searching for understanding. How could he have let her go knowing something was out there waiting for her?   
  
"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked, slightly alarmed, looking around the camp alarmed  
  
Again, the ranger's eyes swept the camp. Boromir was missing as well. Fear crept into his heart at the possibilities. He also saw that Ithilin had left all of her weapons behind. Whatever she faced out there, she was defenseless.   
  
"You and I will discuss Ithilin later." He growled at the elf as he headed off to find the little hobbit.  
  
"No, Estel. We will not." He answered, setting his chin stubbornly. His eyes flashed a warning that he hoped the human would heed.  
  
***  
  
Ithilin stopped in front of the mounted figure and looked up.  
  
"You are the Elf, Coithuliel?" the creature asked, licking its lips.  
  
She nodded. She was afraid. Yet she refused to show this thing anything other than cold pride and dead calm, no matter what.  
  
In one quick movement she was hoisted off the ground and placed in front of the creature on the horse. In the distance, she heard Aragorn shout. She could only hope that the quest would not fail, that her small sacrifice was not in vain.  
  
As she and her captor rode northeast, the sound of a horn echoed through the forest.  
  
"Boromir!" she breathed. "Ilúvatar, accept my offering and see them safely through this peril."  
  
"What say you, she-elf?" the orc growled, his tongue bathing the point of her ear.  
  
She closed her eyes and stiffened her back, shutting out the sensation. No matter what came, they would not break her.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn knelt over Boromir, his lips touching the younger man's forehead. "Be at peace, son of Gondor." He said in a choked whisper.  
  
Legolas ran into the clearing followed closely by Gimli. The prince, on seeing Aragorn bending over Boromir, gasped softly. Although he knew she still lived at least for the moment, that could have easily been Ithilin lying there. He could still feel her strong presence in his mind. Their bond seemed stronger now than it had been when they left Rivendell.  
  
"Legolas. Gimli. Help me get him back to camp."  
  
Without a word, Legolas scooped Boromir's body up and carried the dead man back toward the beach. Gently he laid him down and slowly pulled each arrow out of the man's body. The tears in his eyes made it difficult to see what he was doing.  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn said lightly touching the elf's shoulder, "you do not have to do this."  
  
The prince shook off the human's hand, but remained silent. He sighed, fighting down the desire to break down right there. He could see his hands shaking with the effort of controlling his emotions. As long as he could feel her, he would hold on to hope. He could not afford to let himself fall into despair.   
  
"Legolas"  
  
"No." he whispered tightly, wiping his eyes on his sleeve to clear his vision.  
  
"Look at me." Aragorn knelt at his friend's side, his fingers rested against the elf's chin willing the fair being to turn his head.  
  
"Please. Don't do this." He said pulling away. The lump in his throat tightened painfully.  
  
"Legolas, look at me!"  
  
He had barely looked up, when the dam gave way. He fell over his knees, covering his head with his bloodstained hands. His slight body shook with the force of his silent sobs.  
  
"Oh, Legolas." Aragorn sighed pulling his friend to him and cradling the prince in his arms. "How long have you known?"  
  
"Let me up, Aragorn." Legolas hissed angrily, pushing the ranger's arms away. "I am not an elfling who needs comfort."  
  
"I'm only trying to help, mellon-nîn."  
  
"I will deal with her parting in my own way." The mask of utter calm fell across his face. "I have hope that we will see her again."  
  
"Then, what was that break down?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." He had to cling to that hope. He had to. "Let us see to Boromir. He must have a warrior's byre."  
  
After they laid Boromir to rest, Legolas shoved the third boat into the water.  
  
"Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." He heard Aragorn sigh behind him and looked up, understanding lighting his blue eyes. "You mean not to follow them."  
  
"Frodo's fate is on longer in our hands." He said buckling Boromir's vambraces on his forearm.  
  
"Then it has all been in vain!" Gimli cried, "The Fellowship has failed."  
  
Aragorn shook his head, laying his hands on the elf's and the dwarf's shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He was also not about to let Legolas let Ithilin go so easily. He would talk to the elf about it soon, but not now. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He grabbed up his dagger and slid it into its sheath at his waist, "Let's hunt some orc!"  
  
"Yes!!!" Gimli laughed, grinning at the elf next to him.   
  
Legolas grabbed up Ithilin's weapons, not wanting to leave them behind. As he followed Aragorn, he belted Ithilin's sword, Naurwen, at his waist and slung her bow across his body. She would need them when she returned. 


	9. A Cry in the Darkness

Part Eight: A Cry in the Darkness  
  
A blood red light filled the sky as dawn approached. Fear gripped the elf's heart. He knew what a red sun meant. He tested the bond and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it still intact.   
  
"A red sun rises, blood has been spilled this night." He said to Aragorn, trying not to let his fear show.  
  
Twice, now, Aragorn had tried to bring up Ithilin's departure, but the elf stubbornly refused to talk about it. He knew Legolas well enough to know that the prince would continue to avoid the subject as long as he could. What he couldn't fathom, was how he could let her go knowing that she faced certain death.  
  
Hoof beats thundered on the plain. Quickly, he motioned for his companions to hid behind a large rock. Peering out, he saw the horses belonged to the Rohirrim.  
  
"Riders of Rohan," he called over the noise of hooves, "What news from the mark?"  
  
The host of riders turned as one and surrounded the three, lowering their spears.  
  
"What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" their leader growled as he dismounted, "Speak quickly!"  
  
"Give me your name, horse master, and I shall give you mine." Gimli said haughtily, resting his hands on his axe.  
  
The marshal approached the dwarf, glaring. " I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."  
  
In a flash Legolas drew his bow and nocked and arrow to the string, aiming at the marshal's heart. "You would die before your stroke fell." He growled, ignoring the spears that were being pressed against his body. He would not allow anyone speak to Ithilin's Ai'atar thus.   
  
Aragorn reached over and pushed the elf's bow arm down, giving him a stern look.  
  
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin and Legolas of the woodland realm." The ranger said calmly, "We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden your king."  
  
"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." The rider said as he removed his helm. "Not even his own kin."  
  
Legolas felt a shudder along the bond and stiffened. He fought to keep control as pain flooded into him. Aragorn could not know, but his head was swimming. Weakness, he told himself as he sent what strength he could along the bond.  
  
"They have taken three of our friends captive" he heard Aragorn say to the marshal.  
  
Then Aragorn didn't know that Ithilin wasn't with the hobbits.   
  
"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." Éomer said.  
  
"But there was an Elf and two hobbits with them. Did you see them?!" Gimli gasped fearfully.  
  
"The hobbits would be small, only children to your eyes. The she-elf was not much taller." Fear had crept into the ranger's voice as well.  
  
Éomer shook his head sadly, "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them."  
  
"Dead?" croaked the dwarf. "She can not be."  
  
***  
  
The rider stopped his mount before the gates of Orthanc and dismounted, dragging her with him. She stood stiffly as if in pain but her eyes held a cold fire. She would not allow the Uruk the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt her.  
  
When she struggled and fought against him, he bound her arms tightly. He had also raped her on their few stops. Even then she would not cry out. He beat her savagely and still she uttered not a sound. Her head was swimming from pain but she refused to give in to it. She was afraid, but calm.   
  
She understood what had to happen and that Isildur's heir had to be protected at any cost until he revealed himself. She knew that Sauron was going to try to use her as a pawn and she would not bow to his will. She would die before that happened.  
  
Ithilin was thrown to the floor, her long blond hair falling in her face as she hit the polished obsidian. Pain shot up her bound arms as she tried to catch herself. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.  
  
"The Coithuliel." Came the Istari's deep voice. "Welcome, my lady."  
  
***  
  
Dusk had fallen over Edoras. Legolas stood against a pillar as Éowyn fussed over the children that Gandalf had brought in, a mug in his hand.   
  
"Where's mamma?" the little girl asked.  
  
He could hear Ararûn asking the same question if he returned without Ithilin. He hoped that Aragorn would not corner him tonight. He desperately wanted to be alone.  
  
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain hit him. Something was happening to her. His muscles were always tense, as though he were expecting a lash to hit any minute.   
  
He gazed down at the opaque white liquid in his cup. It had been near a fortnight since she had left and he had taken to consuming his own milk. He knew that Ithilin would need it upon her return, though he had no idea when that would be. Fortunately, neither Aragorn or Gimli had asked what he was drinking. He really did not want to explain this.  
  
***  
  
Moonlight streamed in the window over the bed that he shared with Aragorn. Gimli slept soundly on the couch under the window. Legolas, however was not asleep. Yet, when the ranger had come to bed he had pretended that he was only to avoid talking about Ithilin. It seemed that he was doing that a lot lately. Though, in truth, he knew Aragorn was only trying to help.  
  
Unable to lie there any longer, the prince slid silently out of the bed. Picking up Ithilin's sword, he slipped out of the room and headed toward the great hall. Once there he knelt in the center of the room. He swallowed hard, unsure of why he was even attempting this. He felt he had to know what was happening to her, though he wasn't sure it would work. Although they had been bound for twenty years, it had lain dormant all those years only to be woken just four months ago.  
  
Silently he slid the blade from its sheath, listening to its quiet singing tone for a moment. Breathing deeply, he laid the sword in his left hand an drew the razor sharp blade across his callused palm. Bright red blood welled up out of the wound, staining the silvery etching on the blade.  
  
"Blood calls to blood." He whispered in elvish, "Show me the one to whom I am bound."  
  
His breath caught in his throat as his sight was wrenched from the Golden Hall of Edoras to a cold stone chamber somewhere in the tower of Isengard.   
  
All was dark, except a shaft of blue white starlight that illuminated a blond figure chained on her knees between two posts. Her pale blue tunic hung open and was stained with blood and both her boots and leggings were missing.  
  
Out of the darkness, he heard the crack of a whip and saw her tense as the leather thong lashed across her shoulders. Silence. She refused to let her tormentor have the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Her sapphire eyes burned with hatred as her captor came around her into the light.  
  
"So strong, daughter of Varda." Saruman said silkily as he caressed her cheek. "I know that you were marked for the house of Elendil. So tell me, where is your mate?"  
  
Ithilin remained silent.   
  
"Tell me, child, so you can end this torment."  
  
"I will die before I tell you anything!" She ground out through clenched teeth, a cold fire blazing in her eyes.  
  
"I sincerely hope that will not be so!" the Istari replied with mock sadness, giving a slight nod.  
  
"Mîbo orch!" she hissed as the whip meted out two more stinging kisses on her already abused back.  
  
Saruman approached her and grabbing a handful of blond hair, jerked her head back. "Hold her!" he commanded the Uruk holding the whip. "Now, Grima. I promised you something in return for delivering Rohan to me. Do as you wish with her but don't be gentle."  
  
A pale dark-haired man slunk out of the shadows, licking his lips hungrily  
  
"Do what you must." Ithilin said calmly, steeling herself for the inevitable. "But I will never give you what you ask for, Saruman."  
  
"Heat the irons! I will make you beg for death, little one!" Grima taunted, a savage grin spreading across his pallid features as he ran his hands over her exposed thighs.  
  
Ithilin spat in his face, glaring at him defiantly as he removed his robes and breeches.  
  
A white hot rod was pressed into the flesh of her hand but she continued to stare insolently at the toad in front of her. Even when he took her, she stubbornly refused to cry out.  
  
Hours later, Wormtongue finally tired of her silence and left. She hung in the chains, letting them support her weight, and hung her head. She didn't know how much more of this abuse she could take.  
  
"Ilúvatar, lavenni bellas." She whispered painfully.  
  
:I will come for you, meleth-nîn.:  
  
Ithilin's head snapped up, "Legolas!"  
  
:Hush now,: came the prince's mind voice. :If my strength can buy your silence, it is yours. Neither Aragorn nor I will abandon you to suffer. Hold on to hope.: A strangled cry echoed through the chamber, :I must go. Be strong.:  
  
:Hannon le, meleth-nîn.:  
  
Author's Note Elvish translations:  
  
"Mîbo orch!" - "Go kiss an Orc!"  
  
"Ilúvatar, lavenni bellas." - "Ilúvatar, give me strength."  
  
:Hannon le, meleth-nîn.: - :Thank you, my love.:  
  
Additional Note: Please read and review. I like to know how I'm doing. 


	10. Helm's Deep

Part Nine: Helm's Deep  
  
"Stupid hard headed elf" he heard as he came back to himself.  
  
"Not half as stupid as some rangers I know." He whispered weakly. He could feel soft fabric being wrapped around his hand and wrist.  
  
"Don't you ever do this again!" Aragorn growled as he helped the prince to sit and began to mop up the blood. "Do you understand me?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "Forgive me, mellon-nîn. I had to know."  
  
"You could have died, nift. Have you any idea how much blood you've lost?"  
  
"It is nothing." The elf said dismissively. "You're overreacting as usual."  
  
"Nothing!? Overreacting am I!?" Aragorn's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Listen to me, you stubborn prideful prince. When I found you, you barely had a pulse. You are drenched in blood and the only wound I can find is the one on your hand. Do not tell me that I'm overreacting. I hope what you found out was worth this."  
  
"It was."  
  
Aragorn gazed into his friend's sapphire eyes. "And?"  
  
"Saruman has her, Aragorn." He replied, dropping his gaze from the ranger's and tried to stand. Unfortunately, in his weakened state his knees buckled and darkness threatened to claim him.  
  
"Stubborn elf." Aragorn growled, catching the prince, who hissed in pain as his back landed against the ranger's chest. "What's wrong?"  
  
"It's not me, mellon-nîn." Legolas groaned, resting his head against the human's shoulder. "I gave Ithilin some of my strength and took her pain from her."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To buy her silence. Sauron and Saruman believe her to be bound to you, my friend."  
  
Completely stunned by those words, Aragorn nearly dropped the prince. "What?!"  
  
"You didn't know?" Legolas gave a gasping chuckle, smiling up at his friend. He should have expected as much. "She was meant for you, Estel. But no one seemed to count on free will in this plan. Or me and Arwen, for that matter."  
  
Aragorn opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He tried again, but still he couldn't make his voice work.  
  
"You do look like a fish gasping for air, Estel. Please stop."  
  
"Do you want me to drop you?"  
  
"No. But at least say something."  
  
"What can I say, Legolas? That I'm glad that spitfire isn't my wife?" He shifted the elf so that he was supporting him, not carrying him. "Valar, you're heavy!" He groaned then noticed the pained grin on his friend's face. "What?"  
  
"Ithilin? A spitfire? Valar, please say it isn't so, Aragorn."  
  
"You know damn good and well that she is and you like it that way."  
  
"Yes, mellon-nîn. I would not have her any other way." Chuckled the prince as they slowly made their way back to their room. "But I worry that she will not survive this."  
  
"You must have hope, Legolas, or all is lost."  
  
***  
  
Ithilin hung painfully in her chains, letting them support her weight. Blood stained and matted her long hair. Burn marks and bruises marred her pale peach skin. Her wrists were bruised and lacerated from being knocked against the manacles. Another lash cracked across her much abused back. She was in so much pain now that it barely registered.  
  
"Still you refuse to tell me where your mate is, little one." Saruman paced in front of her, tapping his lips thoughtfully. "I see I have miscalculated your strength. But no more." He produced a small vial from his robes. "This should break down your defenses. Dragon's Fire is most effective when used on open wounds."  
  
He poured some of the blood colored liquid onto a cloth and placed it over one of the open welts on her back.  
  
Although her eyes widened in shock, she remained silent and gritted her teeth against the pain that coursed through her body.   
  
"Not enough, I see." He said as he poured it directly on an open cut.  
  
Ithilin balled her hands into fists and strained against her chains but still refused to cry out.  
  
"Perhaps I can help, my lord." Wormtongue offered as he pulled a brand from the coals and held it between her legs.  
  
Her body trembled at the nearness of the heat. Terror shot through her as the rod contacted the soft skin of her thigh. A soft cry escaped her throat.  
  
"Oh yes. You like that, don't you. Yes, I can see that you do." He picked up another brand and pressed it into her other thigh, eliciting another moan.  
  
"I will tell you nothing, Saruman." She hissed against the pain as another of Grima's rods contacted the flesh just under her breast.  
  
***  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas called, looking around worriedly. He had seen the ranger just moments before as he attacked an orc. Now he was no where to be seen. "Aragorn!"  
  
"Aragorn!" Gimli shouted.  
  
Legolas bent down, looking at the warg tracks that led toward the cliff's edge. What he found disturbed him greatly. Someone had been dragged by the beast, and that someone wore boots of elven make.  
  
An orc laughed behind him. Turning toward the sound, he saw Gimli step over the foul creature, axe in hand.  
  
"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing." The dwarf growled.  
  
"He's dead!" the orc laughed, coughing up black blood. "He took a little tumble off the cliff!"  
  
The creature half laughed, half coughed once more then breathed no more. Something sparkling, in the dark being's hand, caught the elf's attention. The Evenstar.  
  
"No!" he whispered as he retrieved the elven jewel from the hand. Slowly he made his way to the cliff's edge, stopping next to Théoden. He gazed down into the torrent of water rushing below. There was no way the ranger could have survived that fall.  
  
:Ithilin?: he called.  
  
:A'maelamin.: came the pained reply.  
  
:Aragorn has fallen.:  
  
Silence.  
  
"Get the wounded on horses." Théoden called to his men. "Leave the dead."  
  
Legolas starred disbelievingly at the king. How could this man honestly expect him to leave Aragorn, dead or not.  
  
:Legolas.: Ithilin called weakly, :There is hope in the twilight. Look for his coming before the light fades.:  
  
"Come." The king said laying a hand on the elf's shoulder.  
  
Legolas winced slightly at the touch but followed Théoden, clutching the Evenstar tightly in his hand.  
  
***  
  
"I grow weary of asking you about the whereabouts of Isildur's heir, young one." The Istari knelt in front of his captive, stroking her bruised cheek.  
  
"You want to know, Curunír?" she said , smiling darkly. "He is dead."  
  
"That's a lie!" Wormtongue said laying the lash across her shoulders.  
  
"Tell me the truth, child."   
  
"Would you know the truth if you heard it?" Ithilin laughed, ending in a coughing fit that left blood dripping from the corners of her mouth. "You were once respected for your wisdom, Curunír. Then Sauron corrupted you." Her eyes were calm. She had accepted her fate. It would not be much longer. "Do what you want to me. It will not change the fact that he is dead."  
  
"Take her with you," Saruman hissed at an Uruk-hai. "Make sure she is seen, then slit her throat."  
  
***  
  
"Gimli, where is the king?" Aragorn asked as he disengaged himself from the dwarf's crushing embrace.  
  
Gimli nodded in the direction of a set of large double doors. Quickly the ranger headed toward them not paying attention to anything else. Until he was stopped by elven boots and a slender green clad body.  
  
"Le abdollen." The elf grinned wickedly, noting the confusion on his friend's face. "You look terrible."  
  
Aragorn laughed, giving the prince a lopsided grin.  
  
"She knew you would return, mellon-nîn." Legolas said softly, pressing the Evenstar into the ranger's hand.  
  
He looked at the pendant, then at the elf who smiled mysteriously. "Hannon le."  
  
***  
  
Legolas sat carefully cleaning Aragorn's wounds, while the ranger spoke with Théoden. However, as soon as the king left, the human's attention turned toward the elf.  
  
"You're not going to weasel out of telling me how you knew I'd return, Legolas." He said, capturing the elf's gaze.  
  
"Ithilin told me to look for you at dusk."  
  
"How?"  
  
"How little you know of elves, mellon-nîn." The prince replied smartly.  
  
"You didn't cut yourself again, did you?"  
  
"Even if I did, which I didn't, you weren't here to stop me."   
  
"Then why is your hand still bandaged?"  
  
"The wound is of a nature that it will not heal until she is back with me, Aragorn. It bleeds very little and is not a hindrance. I am not concerned."  
  
"OK. If you didn't cut yourself, then how did you know I wasn't dead?"  
  
Legolas graced the ranger with a secretive smile, "That's for me to know and you to find out, human."  
  
"All right, be that way." Aragorn growled. "Let me see your hand."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just want to satisfy my conscience."  
  
"Satisfy it elsewhere, Estel. I'm fine." He said, playfully pushing his friend away.  
  
"Legolas, stop being stupid. You don't want it to get infected, do you?"  
  
"I'm an elf, Estel. It won't."  
  
"Famous last words, mellon-nîn." Quickly, Aragorn grabbed the elf's slender wrist and began to pull the bandages away from the wound. Bright red blood welled up out of the cut as soon as it was unbound. "It bleeds very little, does it? Legolas how long has it been like this?"  
  
"It hasn't." the prince answered in an alarmed whisper. "Something is wrong, Estel."  
  
"What?" He said as the prince's eyes unfocused.  
  
A silver tear ran down the elf's fair cheek as he looked the human in the eye. "She is dying."  
  
"Legolas, listen to me. I can not lose you." Aragorn said emphatically, "You must hope that she will survive this."  
  
"But I can feel it, Aragorn. Her body has been pushed beyond even the endurance of the elves. She knows it as well as I do. She will die before the sun rises."  
  
"No!"  
  
"I fear so, mellon-nîn. There is nothing that we can do to stop it. I accepted this fate long ago, when I bound to her. A battle that we may not survive is before us this night. We can not get to her in time."  
  
"Trust me, Legolas. Do not lose hope yet."  
  
***  
  
Lightning lit up the leaden sky as thunder cracked ominously overhead. A cold rain pelted down, plinking off of the metal armor of the soldiers. Legolas stood on the Deeping Wall with other elves from Lórien and Imladris. Gimli, too, stood beside him. Occasionally he would close his eyes, testing the bond. So far it remained strong, but he knew it couldn't last.  
  
"You could have picked a better spot!" The dwarf grumbled beside him as Aragorn's hand rested on his shoulder. "Well lad, whatever luck you live by, let us hope it lasts the night." The shorter being continued.  
  
A fork of lightning rippled across the sky and another clap of thunder split the air.  
  
"Your friends are with you, Aragorn." Legolas said, leaning against his bow and smiling slightly.  
  
"Let's hope they last the night." Gimli muttered sarcastically.  
  
Gimli began to jump up and down, trying to look over the wall. His actions eliciting snickers from Legolas and some of the other elves around them.  
  
"What's happening out there?" the dwarf growled as he jumped again.  
  
"Shall I describe it to you?" grinned the elf, looking down at his companion. "Or shall I find you a box?"  
  
The dwarf glared up at the fair being and began to laugh.  
  
Another flash of lightning exploded overhead, lighting up the horde of orcs below. Yet that was not all the elf prince saw. The orc captain dragged a limp figure up to stand beside him. It was clad only in a tattered, bloodstained tunic.  
  
"Ai, Valar! It's Ithilin!" he whispered in horror as the creatures brayed their war cry.  
  
"What!?" Gimli yelped, surprised. "Let me see!"  
  
Legolas quickly sheathed his bow and picked up the dwarf.  
  
"What have those things done to her?!" he cried as the elf set him back down.  
  
"Do everything you can to avoid hitting the she-elf!" Legolas called to the others, drawing his bow and sighting down the arrow. "Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc!"  
  
To his horror, the orc captain drew a long sickle-shaped knife and held it to Ithilin's throat. He changed the direction of his aim, sighting the creature who held his mate.  
  
"Hado i philinn!" Aragorn yelled.  
  
Legolas released his arrow and drew and nocked another while he watched the first speed toward its target. It hit the orc with such force that it threw him to the ground to be trampled beneath the advancing horde. The little she-elf still stood, a weak glow coming from her battered form.  
  
:Hannon le, meleth-nîn.: he heard in his mind.  
  
:Find cover, fire of my heart.: he sent back, :I will find you later. Hold on to me.:  
  
:Your wish is my desire, heru-nîn.:  
  
Her elven light dimmed and she slid beneath the outcropping, out of sight of the advancing orcs.  
  
***  
  
"Nan barad!" Aragorn called as he sliced another orc in two, "Nan barad! Legolas! Haldir! Nan barad!"  
  
The two elves raced to the keep, felling orcs along the way. Legolas looked back at the rock outcrop, sighing in relief that he could still see a faint luminescence underneath it.  
  
"They have broken through!" one of the soldiers called behind him, "The castle is breached! Retreat1 Retreat!"  
  
"Hurry, Legolas, Gimli, Haldir! Inside!" Aragorn shouted grabbing the elf's arm, as Legolas tried to slip past him. "Get the others inside!"  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas hissed, his voice breaking slightly in panic. "Aragorn, Ithilin is out there!"  
  
"I can not spare you, mellon-nîn!" Aragorn could see the fear in his friend's eyes. "She will have to stay where she is."  
  
"She will die!"  
  
"Legolas!" the ranger grabbed the elf by the shoulders and forced the fair being to look at him. "As long as you draw breath, she will not die. I will see to that. Now, come!"  
  
Legolas nodded, his eyes darted back to where Ithilin lay concealed. All he could do now was look for hope in the dawn.  
  
Author's Note: What do you think will happen? (Evil chuckle) I'm trying to reconcile the books and the movie, not a task to be take lightly, so bear with me. Please Review!!!!!! Reviewers are like lembas (or Legolas for that matter) , you can't get enough.  
  
Elvish Translations for those of you who haven't seen the movies:  
  
"Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc!" - Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arm.  
  
"Hado i philinn!" - Release the arrows!  
  
"Le abdollen." - You're late.  
  
"Nan barad!" - To the keep!  
  
P. S. Hit the review button, NOW! 


	11. Dawn of Hope

Part Ten: Dawn of Hope  
  
The sun was high before the Uruks had either fled or been destroyed. The canyon floor was littered with the bodies of the dead; orc, elf and human alike. Gimli and Legolas searched near the outcrop for Ithilin but to no avail. Where could she have gone?  
  
"Ithilin!" Legolas called hoarsely.  
  
"Little one!" The dwarf pushed dead ones out of the way as he headed back toward the keep.  
  
"Have you found her yet?" Aragorn asked, coming up beside the elf.  
  
Legolas shook his head, not trusting his voice.  
  
"Legolas!" Gimli cried frantically. "Over here!"  
  
Both the elf and the ranger sprinted to where Gimli stood, white faced and trembling with large tears streaming down his face and copper beard. As they approached, they saw honey blond hair that was matted and stained with blood and pale peach skin marred by ugly dark purple bruises and angry black burns. But the majority of her injuries, however, were concealed by the remnants of a silvery blue tunic.  
  
"No!" the anguished cry broke the still air as the elf knelt, gathering the limp form to his breast and rocked her back and forth. "Ai, Ithilin. Oh Ilúvatar, do not take her from me!"  
  
"Legolas, let her go. It is for the best." Aragorn said quietly, laying a hand on the prince's shoulder. "She doesn't suffer any more."  
  
"You don't understand!" he yelled, his voice breaking with sobs. "She suffered because of you! She was protecting you!"  
  
Aragorn looked at the elf, shocked. Never had Legolas spoken to him like this. Why was the prince blaming him for what Ithilin had walked into willingly? He had nothing to do with what had happened. He was not responsible for her actions. If anything, Legolas was responsible for her, and he was the one who let her go into that living hell. He was the one who should be berating himself for her condition, not Aragorn.  
  
Legolas carefully held her limp, broken body to him as he got unsteadily to his feet. Slowly, he made his way to the keep, Gimli trailing in his wake and leaving Aragorn lost in thought.  
  
Once inside, he took her to a small room off to the side of the throne. The chamber was bare except for a chest, an overstuffed chair and a massive ornate bed that occupied most of the space. The only illumination came from two small high window that bathed the room in a sort of twilight gloom.   
  
Gimli quickly threw back the comforter and bed linens so the prince could lay her down.  
  
"Gimli, find Lady Éowyn." Legolas whispered, his voice hitching on stifled sobs. "Ask her for bandages, a basin of hot water, towels and fresh tunic."  
  
The dwarf nodded and left.  
  
Once he was alone, he took one of his knives and cut the remains of her tunic from her body, taking great care not to injure her further. Laying her back down, he stripped down to his breeches and crawled in the bed beside her. Gently, he pulled her close to his warmth and expressed some milk onto her lips.  
  
Slowly, her lips parted allowing the warm liquid to trickle down her parched throat.  
  
"Yes, Naurorën." He said softly in elvish, kissing her forehead gently as he let the milk dribble gradually past her lips. "I will not leave you. You are safe now. Just don't let go."  
  
***  
  
An hour later, Gimli returned with a basin of steaming water and a handful of bandages the prince had asked for, Éowyn followed behind him, carrying towels and a tunic.  
  
"Heavens above!" she exclaimed as she took in the she-elf's abused form lying still as death on the bed next to Legolas. The elf's eyes were closed in exhausted slumber. "What happened to her?"  
  
"That is of no consequence, my lady." Legolas said groggily, propping himself up on his elbow as he came fully awake. "I need to clean and dress her wounds and get her warm."  
  
Éowyn blushed and averted her eyes at the sight of the half naked elf that hovered protectively over the completely nude little she-elf.  
  
"Perhaps I should do this, my lord. I am, after all, a woman."   
  
"I am her mate, my lady." He said curtly, noticing her disapproving gaze and incensed blush. He took a cloth from her, dipping it in the hot water and wringing it out.   
  
Affronted, Éowyn left, passing Aragorn on her way out.  
  
Gently, he wiped the dirt and blood from her face. Slowly and carefully he cleaned her battered body then he spread athelas ointment on the open welts on her back and loosely lay strips of cloth over them. Finally he slid the clean tunic up over her arms, hooking the catches with shaking hands.  
  
"No!" came a weak moan, that sounded like the cry of a mewling kitten.  
  
"Hush. Sîdh, meleth-nîn. Non sí." He whispered, gathering her into his arms and pressing her head to his chest, "Non sí. Lasto na guren."  
  
"Does she live?" Aragorn asked softly.  
  
"Aye. Barely." Legolas said, stroking her matted hair as he rocked her gently. "Does Mithrandir know?"  
  
"Yes. He said he would come as soon as he finished speaking with Théoden and Haldir."  
  
Legolas nodded, picking up the wet cloth again and wiping the blood that had begun to trickle from her mouth. "Hold on." He pleaded softly. "Stay with me." He gazed up at the ranger with pain filled, imploring eyes. "Can you help her?"  
  
Aragorn sighed heavily, "I will do all that is in my power, mellon-nîn." He laid his hand over the elf's that was stroking Ithilin's hair. "Lay her down, but stay close. You are all that is standing between her and the Halls of Mandos."  
  
The prince settled her back on the bed, her head resting in the crook of his arm. He brushed bloody strands of hair away from her face as he nuzzled her ear, murmuring softly in elvish.  
  
"Ithilin," The ranger gently touched her pale cheek with one hand as he added some crushed athelas to the steaming basin. Soon the oppressive air of death was chased away by its fresh, soothing scent. "Come on, tithen pen. Legolas and I need you to keep us out of trouble."  
  
"Lasto beth nîn, iel-nîn." A deep voice called from the door. "Lasto. Tolo dan nan galad."  
  
Both the elf and the human looked up. Gandalf stood, framed by the opening, with his staff in his hand, glowing softly.  
  
"Come, my daughter." The Maia whispered in a language completely unknown to the others in the chamber. "The Halls of Mandos are not for the Daughter of Varda. There is still much yet you have to do. Do not let the Dark one win this fight."  
  
"Ada?" Came a weak whisper.  
  
Aragorn looked at her then at the Istari, stunned. Was the wizard her father? She had often called Lord Elrond that, but never Gandalf.  
  
"Gandalf, what -"  
  
The old wizard smiled mysteriously, silencing the human. "She is very weak, but she will survive." He sat on the edge of the bed, near the elf. "Now we just have to wait for her to wake."  
  
The elf smiled wearily, his eyes beginning to glaze and flutter closed. "Hannon le, adar o hervess nîn."  
  
"I have known you from an elfling, young one. You are a strange one among the Silvan folk. This fire, you have, is rarely seen in the elves of your kin." Gandalf whispered, brushing pale golden strands away from the prince's face. "Though, if it hadn't been for you, my young prince, her spirit would have fled long ago."   
  
"Gandalf, Legolas said that she had been destined for me."  
  
"Prophecies have their own ways of coming true, Aragorn." Gandalf chuckled. "A bond with you would not have been this strong."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"For all that you bear the blood of Númenor, it has been diluted and weakened by the blood common men." The Istari said. "Come, Aragorn. We will speak of this elsewhere. They both have been stretched far beyond their limits. Legolas will sleep until she wakes." He turned toward the door and caught sight of the worried dwarf. "Stay with them, Gimli, and come for me as soon as they wake."  
  
***  
  
A single candle broke the pitch darkness of the chamber. Legolas woke to Gimli's soft snoring beside the bed. He blinked in the darkness. How long had he been asleep?  
  
Ithilin stirred beside him, her hand sliding slowly up the bare skin of his chest. He shivered at the unexpected movement, eliciting a soft chuckle from his mate.  
  
"You are awake!" he whispered in elvish, turning onto his side. "Ai Ithilin, you had me worried."  
  
"It is not over yet, meleth-nîn." She answered, nuzzling him. "It won't be for a long time. Besides I'm not finished with you yet."  
  
Legolas kissed the top of her head, laughing softly. "You're not?"  
  
"No, my very vain, pretty prince, I most definitely am not." She reached up and traced the outline of his lips with her index finger.   
  
He smiled and caught the curious digit gently between his teeth. His lips closed over her slender finger as he ran his tongue over the tip, chuckling quietly when he heard her gasp in delight.  
  
"It has been too long, Legolas. I want you, yet I have not the strength for it."  
  
"It can wait, Ithilin." He said, releasing her finger. "You have been through hell and need to heal. I, too, am still healing."  
  
She looked up at him, the candle light dancing like stars in her dark eyes. "Have you milk, still? I am hungry."  
  
"That is good news, a'maelamin." He said, carefully pulling her closer, "I knew you would need it when you returned to me."  
  
It felt so good to have her so close to him, to feel her warm breath against his skin. He sighed in contentment as her lips closed over the nipple nearest her and began to suckle hungrily. He chuckled softly at the funny little noises she made as she ate.   
  
"I fear it hurts too much to move." She whispered, licking milk from her lips as she pulled away.  
  
Without a word Legolas carefully straddled her waist, making sure he put little or no weight on her abused body. He leaned down over her, supporting his weight above her yet giving her access to his other nipple.   
  
"Does that help?"  
  
:Yes, thank you. But how long do you think you can suspend yourself like that?:  
  
"Very funny, she-elf." He felt her lips curl into a smile against him.  
  
As soon as she finished, he claimed her mouth with his own, reveling in the warm sweetness of his milk still on her lips. Her hands entwined themselves in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss. Fire raced along the bond, making them both gasp in pleasure.   
  
"Ithilin," he panted, feeling a surprising and very welcomed tightening in his leggings. "I . . . Fate, it seems, has a bizarre sense of humor."  
  
"It does, doesn't it?" she replied, sliding her hands down to untie the lacings on his breeches. "What shall we do about it?"  
  
"Ithilin, no. It's not that I don't want this, meleth-nîn. It's-"  
  
She smiled lovingly at him, "It's all right, Legolas. You are right. My injuries are extensive, yet I am healing. I will be for some time."  
  
He kissed her tenderly, smiling, "Besides, you wouldn't want to wake Gimli and have to explain this would you?"  
  
"He'd only laugh at us and make some comment about the promiscuousness of elves." She laughed.  
  
"Are you finished with me?" he asked, laying down beside her again.  
  
She snuggled into his warm and comforting embrace. "I'll never be finished with you, meleth-nîn. But if you are referring to your milk, yes I am finished for now." She yawned as she cuddled closed to his warmth. "I'm sleepy."  
  
Legolas hooked the comforter with his foot and brought it within reach of his hand. Then he wrapped it tightly about their bodies, creating a cocoon of warmth for her. He heard her sigh softly as she settled into his arms. Then a coughing fit began.   
  
When she pulled her hand away from her mouth, it glistened darkly in the candlelight. Blood. She turned frightened eyes on her mate, who smiled sadly and gently dabbed the blood from her mouth with a cloth.  
  
"The Dragon's Fire. It has found it's way into my lungs."  
  
"Aragorn will have something for this. Have hope."  
  
"You don't understand, Legolas. Dragon's Fire is a lethal poison." Fear filled her voice. "By rights, I should have been dead days ago."  
  
"Aragorn can fix this, Ithilin." He answered, trying not to let his fear show, "If not him, then Mithrandir will be able to do something."  
  
"No, Legolas. Even if my father were still with us, there is nothing he could do."  
  
She didn't know. But then, why would she. She had been held captive by Saruman and there was no reason for him to tell her that Gandalf lived.  
  
"But he lives, Ithilin. He is Gandalf the White now."  
  
"Gandalf the White? But how is this possible? We saw him fall."   
  
"You will see come morning, meleth." He kissed the crown of her head, settling her against him. "Sleep now and heal. Dawn will come all too soon I fear."  
  
He felt her slight body relax against him in sleep and it wasn't long before he, too, was dragged under by the weariness he felt. Both slept soundly, until dawn broke, kindling the high windows with a golden flame.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf stood over the pair, chanting softly in Quenya. He had sent Gimli with Aragorn to find some food. Legolas would be ravenous when he woke.  
  
He had seen the blood trickling from his daughter's mouth as she slept wrapped tightly in the elf prince's arms. He knew only one thing could cause this. Dragon's Fire. A poison of torture, favored by Sauron, to induce his victims to talk. Deadly when used on elves. She was fortunate, though. Ithilin was not elf, nor was she human. She was Valar. She was his daughter and Varda.'s.   
  
"Gandalf?" Legolas peered sleepily over Ithilin's blond head.  
  
"Has she woken, young one?"  
  
"Yes. Sometime in the night." He answered softly, not wanting to wake her. "She ate and went back to sleep."  
  
"But that's not all that happened, is it?" The Istari cocked a white eyebrow at the prince.  
  
"No." he replied sorrowfully. Then he felt something warm and wet on the arm where Ithilin lay. "Ai, no."  
  
Quickly he grabbed the cloth he had used earlier and wiped his arm. Fresh blood stained the towel. Gently he ran it across her mouth. He sighed heavily with relief when it came away with only a slight tinge of pink.  
  
"That's not all that happened, is it?" The wizard repeated, watching Legolas closely.  
  
"No, Mithrandir. She began to cough up blood. I fear I will still lose her."  
  
"Dragon's Fire has a tendency to do that. She will be fighting it for some time but she is a fiery one. Have faith, little one, she has the strength of the Valar protecting her." Gandalf smiled fondly at the prince, "And the love of a certain young elf that I know. On that alone, I believe she could survive anything."  
  
"Legolas? Who is . . . " Her soft voice trailed off and her eyes widened in fear. "No1"  
  
"Sîdh, iel-nîn." The Istari whispered, sitting on the bed. "It is only me."  
  
"Eru?!" she breathed, uncomprehending. "It can not be!"  
  
"But it is." He smiled at her confusion, "Nay, daughter, you have not died in the night. You yet live."  
  
"Ada?" She looked hard at the wizard then began to laugh, "You are not Ilúvatar. Why do you tease, Ada?"  
  
"Am I not?"  
  
"Legolas, he teases. Do not take him seriously. He is not Eru."  
  
"As you say, meleth-nîn," the elf said, nuzzling her ear and giving the wizard a knowing smile.  
  
"Who's up for breakfast?" Aragorn and Gimli announced cheerfully as they entered carrying trays heaped with food.  
  
Legolas licked his lips hungrily as they set the platters down on the chest. He started to get up but Ithilin managed to hold him down.  
  
"Not until after I eat, meleth." She said, her sapphire eyes dancing mischievously.   
  
"I think not, hervess!" He was a little surprised at how strong she was in her given condition. "You can wait."  
  
"Don't make me hurt you, elf. Now lay down." A smug smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  
  
Aragorn laughed as Legolas did as she asked. "Like I said, Legolas. I'm glad she's not mine."  
  
"Just give me some food, Estel, before I smack you." The elf glared at the human as Ithilin settled against him, her tongue playing teasingly over a nipple. "If you're going to play, meleth, I'm getting up."  
  
"Don't you dare."  
  
He arched an eyebrow at her and cocked his head, daring her to continue playing with him. Her tongue darted out once more, but with a flick of his wrist he caught it between his thumb and index finger.  
  
"Now, are you going to eat, or play?"  
  
:You win this time, meleth o guren.: Her mind voice chuckled audibly, surprising everyone in the room except Gandalf. :Break your fast, herven. I know you are starving.:  
  
He let her go and she move away a little so he could sit up against the headboard. Once he was settled, she curled up beside him, her head resting against his chest. She sighed contentedly as he stroked her hair. Only after Aragorn handed him a plate of food did she begin to suckle.  
  
"That one rivals any dwarf woman on a good day, Master Elf." Gimli chuckled. "She has more fire than most men want to contend with."  
  
"Aye. But I could not live without her, Gimli." Legolas smiled and kissed the top of his mate's head. "Perhaps your dwarf women could take a few lessons from her."  
  
"That they could. Though, I very much doubt they could contend with her beauty and that of the Lady of the Golden Wood."  
  
"I honestly don't know how you handle her, mellon-nîn. I know I wouldn't be able to."  
  
The elf shook his head, "That's the trick, Estel. I don't."  
  
"Yet you somehow manage to keep her in her place." Haldir sneered upon entering.  
  
"What place?!" Legolas laughed. "This little she-elf has me wrapped around one of those pretty, slender fingers of hers. I may be her lord, but I definitely am *not* her master."  
  
Legolas kept her close, petting her. If she so much as shifted uncomfortably, he made sure she didn't need anything. It wasn't long before the Ithilin's eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed against him.  
  
Yes, Gandalf thought as he watched her, she would survive this trial. The next one he wasn't so sure.  
  
Author's Note: Ok, I'm stalling for time. I'm trying to reconcile the books and the movie, not a task to be take lightly, so bear with me. AI!!!!! Return of the King will be in theatres in a little over a month. SHRIEK!!!!!!!! I've got some things planned but I'm not sure how they will fit within the story line. ARGH!!!! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! To all of my reviewers. Any help you can give and all of your encouragement is most assuredly appreciated. Hannon le, mellon-nîns. By the by, you can get a fairly decent Sindarin/English, English/Sindarin dictionaries at Council of Elrond (www.councilofelrond.com). Plus some pretty tasty Lembas recipes and lots of other fun stuff. Say I sent you when you register. Please Review!!!!!! Reviewers are like lembas (or Legolas for that matter) , you can't get enough.  
  
Elvish Translations:  
  
  
  
"Sîdh, meleth-nîn. Non sí." - Peace, my love. I am here  
  
"Lasto na guren." - Listen to my heart.  
  
"tithen pen" - little one  
  
"Lasto beth nîn, iel-nîn." - Listen to my voice, my daughter  
  
"Tolo dan nan galad." - Come back to the light  
  
"Hannon le, adar o hervess nîn." - Thank you, father of my wife.  
  
"meleth o guren" - love of my heart.   
  
P. S. Hit the review button, NOW! 


	12. Parlay at Isengard

Author's Note: Sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter up. You know, too many ideas floating around waiting to be written. Right now I'm working on a series of Shakespearean comedies set with LOTR characters. Lots of fun there! Oh and thanks for all the good Ideas for an ending. X's and O's to all of my reviewers!!!!!!  
  
Part Eleven: Parlay at Isengard  
  
  
  
"Wake her. We must make haste to Isengard."  
  
"Let her sleep, Gandalf." Aragorn pleaded, trying without success to give the little she-elf some respite. "Hasn't she suffered at Saruman's hands enough? Legolas, say something."  
  
"What. I can not leave her here, Aragorn." The prince countered. "She needs me right now, so she rides with us. It does not matter what I want at this point."  
  
"She must do as she was born to do, Aragorn. Just as you must." The wizard said. "Now, fetch her a clean tunic, leggings and boots."  
  
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered, softly caressing her cheek, "We must go."  
  
Ithilin sighed as she disentangled herself from his warm embrace. :Help me to sit, meleth. It still hurts to move too much.:  
  
:You're going to be hurting more before this day is over, I think.: He moved slowly, letting her adjust to the inevitable pain. "We ride for Isengard, meleth-nîn."  
  
"Why, in the name of all the Holy Ones, should I want to go back there willingly?" she panted acidly, resting her head against Legolas' shoulder and closing her eyes against a wave of searing pain that engulfed her. "Please tell me there is a reason I am being forced a horse when I would rather lie here in contented sleep next to my mate."  
  
"Have I not always given you reasons for the way things must be, my daughter?" Gandalf laughed.  
  
"Aye, Adar, you have. But you remember what happened the first time you told me what I needed to do?"  
  
"That would be twenty year ago now, wouldn't it?"  
  
"Yes. All I had to do was capture the heart of a certain King of Men." She chuckled breathlessly as Legolas' dark eyebrows crept into his hairline. Suddenly, she began to cough and blood trickled out of the corners of her mouth. Legolas picked up the cloth and wordlessly wiped it away. "An easy task, or so I thought until I tried to wrench his attention away from the fair Arwen."  
  
"I can imagine that proved as difficult as my own efforts that summer." Legolas laughed as Aragorn returned with clothing for Ithilin.  
  
"What's so funny?" He asked.  
  
"You." The two elves said in unison.  
  
"Me!?" Aragorn said innocently as the prince made a grab for the clothing he carried. The human grinned wickedly as he held the items out of reach, knowing that Legolas would not risk moving to much because Ithilin rested against him. "Why this time, mellon-nîn?"  
  
"Does it have to be anything in particular, Aragorn?" The prince said, grinning impishly. "Now give me those!"  
  
The ranger shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you and your spitfire are laughing at me."  
  
"You remember the summer I spent with you twenty years ago, don't you?"  
  
"Aye. That was the summer you bound to Ithilin, right?"  
  
"Yes." The elf smiled wistfully and nuzzled his mate affectionately. "Well, she was suppose to woo you, mellon-nîn. But ended up wooing me instead."  
  
"And that's funny?" Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at the prince as he threw the clothes at him, hitting him in the face.  
  
"Just think, Estel." Ithilin panted softly against the pain as Legolas removed her tunic, cleaned then rebandaged her wounds and dressed her in the clean tunic. "You could be stuck with me."  
  
Aragorn groaned at the thought. He cared for her yes, but the thought of being married to her frightened him a little. He had never seen a bonding this tight before, yet he knew with dreadful certainty that if anything happened to one of them the other would feel it. He also feared that if Ithilin were to perish in the battle to come, he might lose Legolas as well. That was *not* something that Aragorn wanted to think about, ever.  
  
***  
  
Ithilin leaned heavily on Legolas. Walking was excruciating, but she refused to be carried. She and Legolas had argued with Gandalf about her not being able to ride with Legolas, being forced to ride with Aragorn instead. She needed Legolas, though she wouldn't admit how much.  
  
"Gandalf, you can't mean to take her along?" Théoden protested as Ithilin was placed in the saddle in front of Aragorn.  
  
"She goes, Théoden." The Istari answered warningly.  
  
:Estel?:  
  
Aragorn blinked in surprise at her voice in his head. "Did you say something, Ithilin?"  
  
:Yes.: she said, settling against him. :I'm tired.:  
  
The ranger glanced over at Legolas who was hoisting Gimli up behind him. "Should I let her sleep, Legolas?" He asked quietly in elvish.  
  
"Yes, as much as she can." The fair being nudged Arod up beside Hasufel and wiped the blood from Ithilin's chin, then handed the cloth to Aragorn. "Keep this. You'll be needing it." Legolas' hand brushed her cheek, "Sleep, meleth. We will not stop until after nightfall."  
  
***  
  
Aragorn rode slowly to keep from jarring the little she-elf that slept against him. He noticed that Legolas kept looking back at them, worry etched in his blue eyes. He knew that the elf was angry that she had not been allowed to ride with him. In fact, the argument with Gandalf had been very heated. Both elves hated the idea of being separated, even for a minute. They tried to explain that Ithilin needed Legolas, but the wizard refused to budge.  
  
The ranger started slightly when she nuzzled him as he had seen her do with Legolas many times over the last two months.  
  
"Legolas!" he called, trying to still her movements.  
  
The prince looked back and stifled a chuckle at the ranger's predicament. Reigning in Arod, he waited for Aragorn to catch up.  
  
"What, you can't take care of that, Estel?" he smiled.  
  
"Do I look like an elf?"  
  
"You're not?!" Legolas said with feigned surprise, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with mirth. "I just assumed that you were, considering you were raised by Lord Elrond."  
  
"Funny, Legolas, very funny." Aragorn grumbled good-naturedly, as he gently stopped Ithilin's unconscious attempts to find food. "Remind me why we're friends again?"  
  
"Because I saved you arse so many times, that I've lost count and you owe me." The elf laughed, drawing a chuckle from the dwarf. "Gimli, you wouldn't mind riding with Aragorn, would you?"  
  
"No, lad. Not if she needs you."  
  
Legolas smiled his thanks and helped the dwarf over to Hasufel, behind Aragorn.  
  
:Ithilin, wake.: his mind whispered as he touched her arm. :Come ride with me.:   
  
:Legolas?: she blinked sleepily at him.   
  
The elf unbuckled his quiver harness and unhooked his jerkin and tunic then gently lifted her over onto his horse, settling her so that she faced him.  
  
:Drink you fill and go back to sleep, meleth-nîn. I have a feeling that Gandalf is going to chastise me for this.:  
  
:What does he want me to do? Aragorn can not give me this.:  
  
:I think he doesn't want you to depend wholly on me.: he answered, nuzzling her hair as he felt her lips against his skin.  
  
She shifted slightly, wrapping her legs around his waist so she wasn't coming in contact with Arod's withers. :I never thought that I would be completely dependent on you.:  
  
:I don't mind.: he laughed  
  
:You will if things do not improve. You wouldn't be able to go anywhere without me.:  
  
Legolas sobered, :I hadn't thought about that.:  
  
:I like listening to your heartbeat.: she sighed, pressing her ear to his chest. :It's comforting.:  
  
:So is having you at my breast. I don't know why my kin never bound, Ithilin. This brings me so much peace. I'm happy that I can give you what you need.:  
  
Ithilin pulled away and gazed up into his eyes, "I'm glad that you love me that much, Legolas."  
  
***  
  
The near full moon bathed the empty river bed of the Isen in its silvery light. The bank and surrounding territory was devoid of all sounds of life save those that they themselves made. Legolas was uneasy though, as he dismounted. Something wasn't right here.  
  
Gandalf had said nothing about Ithilin riding with Legolas until they made camp for the night. "You are not as shy about private matters as you once were, young one." He said, coming up behind the prince.  
  
"Shall I let her starve?" The elf replied coolly, as he carefully lifted Ithilin down from the horse. His anger had abated somewhat, but he was still upset. "No, Gandalf, I don't like having to do this in the open, but I really don't have any other options."  
  
The Istari chuckled softly. "I know, youngling. Now go get some rest."  
  
Legolas helped her settle in for the night then went to join Aragorn and Gimli for a sketchy supper. Ithilin had hardly let him have a moments rest while they rode, yet he never denied her his milk. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and his stomach was beginning to war with his spine, he was so hungry.   
  
"How is she, lad?" Gimli asked, handing him a bowl of stew.  
  
The prince wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of the thick soup and nearly gagged. "Please tell me this isn't all there is to eat."  
  
"What's wrong, Legolas? You look ill." Aragorn asked, taken aback by the elf's reaction to the food. "You've never had a problem with stews in the past."  
  
"I don't know? Here, you smell it." The fair being coughed, passing the bowl to the ranger.  
  
"What? Doesn't she like the food?" one of the Rohirrim, behind them, said mockingly.  
  
"You know how it is with breeding women, Éorl," another joined in, "Can't hold a thing down."  
  
Legolas' eyes blazed but he said nothing. They were nothing but uneducated men who knew nothing of elves and their ways. But would he have been any different a few months ago? He had known nothing of bound elves, coming from a line of royalty that wed solely to cement alliances, not for love. His own father might even say that he was fay if he saw Ithilin at his breast. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what Thranduil would do to him, knowing what the elven king was capable of, if he ever found out.  
  
"Did you put something in this?" Aragorn growled, knowing the elf's sensitivity to certain spices.  
  
"It's just venison stew, m'lord. Nothing's in it that would hurt even the weest babe."  
  
Aragorn tasted the stew in the elf's bowl and coughed. Lothruin. A very potent spice that Legolas avoided like the plague. He well remembered the last time Legolas had had the seasoning. Elrohir had thought it would be funny to slip some into the prince's wine. Unfortunately, it made Legolas violently ill all over Elrohir. And these morons had used it liberally in the prince's dinner.  
  
"Here, Legolas, you finish mine." he said giving the elf his half eaten bowl. "I'll take care of these nifts."  
  
"It doesn't matter what the humans are saying, Aragorn. However feminine I appear to them, I am still one of the deadliest warriors of my race."  
  
"You sell yourself short, lad." Gimli said gruffly, "I have met many elves on this journey and you, my friend, are the most dangerous. Merely because you don't look like you could harm a flee."  
  
"Thank you, Gimli. I'm touched."  
  
"Yeah, in the head." Aragorn teased, getting up to force the tampered stew down the offenders throats.  
  
"No more than you, Estel." The elf's eyes gleamed fiendishly in the silver moonlight.  
  
"Well, who wouldn't be? Look who I have for friends."  
  
"Yes, but with friends like us, who needs Sauron? Huh?" the elf grinned.  
  
Aragorn groaned and rolled his eyes.  
  
Gimli laughed heartily at their exchange. "Then the Dark Lord had better think twice about coming after us, hadn't he?"  
  
Now it was Aragorn's turn to laugh, until he saw Legolas' expression change and his blond head snap in Ithilin's direction. A heartbeat later, the prince had disappeared into the darkness.  
  
***  
  
"No! Stop!" she cried softly, feebly fighting the hands that tried to restrain her. "No more, please!"  
  
"Sîdh, meleth-nîn. Non sí." Came the whispered words, but she was caught in the hellish nightmare of her remembered ordeal.  
  
"Please stop! You're hurting me!"  
  
"Ithilin, sîdh. 'Tis I, Legolas." Though soft, the words sounded on the edge of panic. Yet they couldn't break through the terror that she was reliving.  
  
* * *The Uruk had thrown her to the ground. Stunned, she couldn't react until it was too late. And by that time, he was on top of her tearing at her clothing.   
  
She had fought briefly but he had caught her hands and pinned them above her head in one of his enormous hands. She felt his hot, rancid breath against her neck as his vile tongue bathed her ear. His free hand ripped open her jerkin and tunic and crushed the soft mounds of flesh, that he found there, in his powerful grip.  
  
Terror coursed through her as she was relieved of her leggings. The misborn forced her legs apart, driving himself inside her with such force that she was sure she was being rent in two. She wanted to scream, the pain was so great. Yet she could find no voice to do so.   
  
Pain engulfed her. Her eyes watered and all she could see was stars and the horrible visage of the Uruk leering maliciously down at her. * * *  
  
"NO! STOP!" the scream broke through the stillness of the camp.  
  
Legolas had stopped fighting her and moved away a little, tears streaming silently down his fair cheeks as he rested his head on his knees. He was frightened for her.  
  
"Ithilin, where are you?" he said in a hitched whisper.  
  
"Make it stop!" she whimpered. "Legolas, please make it stop!"  
  
The elf looked over at his mate. Pain filled eyes met his in the silvery darkness. He uncurled himself and crawled toward her, not bothering to hide his own pain and fear.  
  
"Non sí, meleth-nîn." He whispered, gathering her into his lap.  
  
"How can you love me, Legolas?" she sobbed against his chest. "After all of this, how can you love me?"  
  
"How can I not?"  
  
"Do you still want me?" she asked. "I would understand-"  
  
Legolas' heart contracted in his chest. He knew why she would ask that, but it hurt to hear her say it. "Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Words are a poor expression of how I feel, Ithilin."  
  
His lips met hers in a soft kiss. His slender hands cupped her face, his long fingers sliding up the shell of her slightly pointed ears to caress the nearly imperceptible tips.   
  
"I asked you those same questions when I returned to Rivendell." He whispered. "And you gave me the same answers."  
  
"Make me forget."  
  
"Here?" He choked. He understood that she needed this, but this was not the ideal spot. He preferred a more secluded setting.  
  
Hot tears of rejection welled up in her eyes. "It's all right, Legolas," she said in tight whisper. "You don't have to."  
  
Legolas' eyes blazed. "Ithilin, I don't ever want to hear that again. Do you understand?" he said a little more sharply than he had intended to.  
  
Ithilin shrank away from him, avoiding his gaze.  
  
"Look at me."  
  
Her eyes were locked on the ground.  
  
Gently, his hand brushed her cheek, sliding down her jaw to cup her chin. "Please look at me, meleth-nîn,"  
  
"You are ashamed of what they did to me." She said in a pained whisper.  
  
"No," he replied, pain clear in his voice. "A'maelamin, it's not . . .Oh, hell. Gimli is going to tease me unmercifully about this, you know."  
  
A timid smile appeared on her lips as she reached tentatively for the little silver clasps that held his jerkin and tunic closed. Encouraged when he didn't stop her, she slowly began to unhook them. She pushed the soft fabric off his shoulders, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest and up his throat to his jaw. He lifted his head slightly, resting his chin on the top of her head as she kissed the hollow of his throat. She nuzzled the base of his jaw, feeling his low purr of pleasure against her face  
  
He pulled back just enough to capture her lips with his own. Gently, he caressed her shoulders, sending a hesitant pulse of desire along the bond. The response he received, though shaky, was encouraging. He pressed his tongue gently against her lips and felt her open her mouth to let him inside. He wanted this as much as she needed it, but he knew that she would fight him if he was too rough. It took all his self control to keep his love making gentle.  
  
She leaned back as his tongue slid into her mouth, his strong arms supporting her all the way to the hard earth. His silky golden hair fell over his shoulders, brushing her cheeks as he knelt over her. Her hands wandered over his torso, coming to rest on the laces on his leggings.  
  
"Not yet." He whispered, his lips trailing to her ear. "I could hurt you if I took you now."  
  
"I need you!"  
  
"Hush, meleth. Iston."  
  
He felt her hands leave his body. Fearing that he had upset her, he drew away a little, confusion lighting his features. He smiled with relief when he saw that she was frantically trying to undo her own clothing.  
  
"Let me." He murmured, covering her hands with his and slowly unfastened the catches. He refused to expose her more than he needed to because, although his vision had narrowed to just her, he knew that they were being watched. Yet he could not deny her what she needed most, him.  
  
The last hook yielded beneath his hands, revealing the scarred flesh of her torso. Gingerly, he let his hands wander over her skin. He could see, in the moonlight, that the bruises were fading and the burns were being replaced by soft, new skin. The physical scars would disappear within the next few days, but the emotional damage could take years to heal. What his father had done to him was nothing in comparison to what she had suffered.   
  
He bent down and touched his lips to the rise of her breast, feeling her rise slightly to meet his touch. He took his time in pleasuring her because her reactions were so curbed by the abuse, that he had to look for the slightest response in her body language.   
  
She trembled beneath him as his hands slid down toward her leggings and he knew with horrible certainty that it was a dual response, one of fear and one of desire. Which was stronger, he knew not but he hoped that her desire for him would over shadow the fear.  
  
"Are you sure you want me to do this, Ithilin?" he asked softly, gazing into her dark eyes.  
  
"Yes." She whimpered, fear evident in her voice.  
  
Slowly he untied the laces of her breeches and slid them past her hips to the tops of her boots. He hoped she wouldn't feel trapped by the fabric restricting her movements. "Tell me to stop if I hurt you, all right?"  
  
She nodded, watching him slide his own leggings down and kneel between her legs. She cried out softly as he entered her, fear making her recoil from him.  
  
"Hush," he said soothingly, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek. "It's all right. I will not to hurt you."  
  
"Legolas," she pleaded, her voice breaking with sobs. "I want to forget them. Please, make me forget."  
  
Legolas tried to swallow the past the lump in his throat. What had they done to his beautiful Ithilin? She had always been so strong, so loving. Now she was like a broken doll, weak and frightened.  
  
"Remember the night we bound, Ithilin?" He said, trying to turn her thoughts to a happier time as his hips rocked against hers. "Remember how angry I was at Estel? Remember the bath? And the chase?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Let us relive that night. We are new bound and none of these last twenty years have happened."  
  
Lost in the memory of that night, the two elves came together without fear and without pain. Their lovemaking, though hesitant, was that of young lovers exploring the delights of each others bodies for the first time. For a few hours, at least, she was his young bride and he was just the young elf prince who captured her heart.  
  
As the moon reached its zenith and after they had put themselves back in order, Ithilin curled into his embrace.  
  
"Hush, now, Ithilin. I am here." He murmured into her hair, holding her close as she sobbed quietly against his bare chest.  
  
"Don't let me forget that night again, Legolas." Her voice was soft and hitched by sobs but it had lost the note of hopelessness.  
  
He smiled and kissed her forehead, "I doubt that you will, meleth. Sleep now."  
  
He heard her sigh and felt her relax against him in sleep. He loved her more than life and while it hurt him to see her like this, he knew that she would be stronger for it.   
  
Behind him, he heard someone cough and he shifted to look at the interloper. Aragorn and Gimli stood a few yards away, staring resolutely in opposite directions. Legolas groaned softly, knowing that they had seen.  
  
"Are you done?" the human asked, mirth coloring his words as he glanced in the elf's direction.  
  
The poor elf didn't know what to say. He was caught between incredulousness and embarrassment. Picking up a small stone, he chucked it at the ranger.  
  
"Ouch." He hissed as the rock hit his arm. "Jeez, is this the thanks I get for keeping the nosy Rohirrim away from you for a couple of hours?"  
  
"When you ask if I'm done, it is, Telcontar." Legolas growled, though he was grateful to the human and the dwarf for protecting their privacy. "What do I do about a nosy ranger and dwarf, though?"  
  
"Nothing, lad, if you know what's good for you." The dwarf burred testily.  
  
"I thank you, mellyn-nîn." Legolas chuckled. He could trust that his friends wouldn't say anything to anyone about what they witnessed. "Come rest. It is many hours, yet, before dawn."  
  
***  
  
Later, the four of them woke to the cry of the watchmen. No moonlight bathed the empty river bed. The only light came from the few stars shining overhead. Yet over the ground, a darkness blacker than night crawled, like a stalking predator, on both sides of the river heading northward.  
  
"Stay where you are!" Gandalf commanded. "Draw no weapons! Wait! And it will pass you by!"  
  
Protectively, Legolas curled around Ithilin. She huddled in the safety of his arms, pressing as close to him as she could get. He could almost taste her fear, it was so real.   
  
"Aragorn, Gimli." He called softly to his companions. "Come closer."  
  
Both the ranger and the dwarf didn't question the elf's request. They wanted to get away from the approaching shadow and the elf's natural light gave them a sense of security.  
  
The earth shook violently beneath them and all about them came the sound of tortured whisperings and groanings. Above, only a few stars twinkled faintly but the walls of shadow blocked out most of the night sky. Long minutes of shear terror passed slowly before the darkness rolled by, vanishing between the mountain's arms.  
  
A collective sigh rose up from the group, once the glittering night sky and silver moon were again visible.  
  
Legolas uncurled, letting Ithilin relax a little. Yet the she-elf did not move away from him. He looked down at her. Her eyes were like dark saucers, only a pencil line of blue circled the outside of the pupil.  
  
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. You are safe." He breathed, nuzzling her ear.  
  
"Don't leave me."  
  
"Aragorn and Gimli are here, Ithilin." He said reassuringly, "If I have to relieve myself, you'll be safe enough."  
  
She nodded, "Forgive me. I'm being foolish."  
  
Legolas chuckled, hugging her to him. "You're allowed, but just this once."  
  
"Don't let it happen again, though." Aragorn teased, seeing that Legolas was trying to lighten her mood.  
  
"Aye, lass." Gimli put in, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes. "Or we may have to toss you into a lake."  
  
"Assuming that we can find one on short notice." The ranger said ruffling her hair.  
  
"A stream would do, I suppose, if a lake is hard to come by." Said the dwarf.  
  
"How about a bucket? You're rather fond of those, aren't you, Legolas?" Aragorn grinned.  
  
The elf groaned. "If I never see another bucket of water again, it will be too soon. You and your brothers were determined to send me home looking like a drowned cat that summer, weren't you."  
  
"We did our best." The human yawned, stretching.  
  
Burrowing closer to her mate, Ithilin laughed softly at the image they invoked. With that, she fell asleep against Legolas with a lighter heart.  
  
No one else slept, though, fearing the shadow would return. Yet nothing else strange disturbed the stillness of the night, save one. With an initial rush of water upon the stones of its bed, the Isen bubbled and sang in its course once more.  
  
***  
  
The sun did not rise with the dawn, but with a thick fog that hung gray and heavy about them. The company mounted up and resumed their journey to Isengard.  
  
After some miles, the highway narrowed into a paved street with deep gutters on either side filled with trickling water. Looming before them, through the mists, stood a tall obsidian pillar with a carved white hand pointing north.  
  
Ithilin shivered in Legolas' embrace. "I can't go back there." she said apprehensively.  
  
"Gimli, Aragorn and I are here, Ithilin."  
  
"Aye, lass. I'll not let any orcs take you again." The small being growled protectively from his perch behind Aragorn, "I'll hew them into pieces, should they lay a hand on your pretty head again."  
  
"Legolas, I'm afraid."  
  
"Look at me." He commanded gently, tucking a strand of honey colored hair behind her ear. When she looked up, he continued. "I know your fear, hervess-nîn. I share it. But you can no more avoid confronting your tormentors then you could giving birth."  
  
"I don't want to do this."  
  
"Iston." He sighed. "I wish you didn't have to, but you have no other choice."  
  
"As long as I do not have to face them alone, I will say nothing more."  
  
"Not even Eru could keep me from standing with you, meleth-nîn."  
  
She nuzzled his neck and laughed softly when she felt his low purr against her forehead.  
  
"I didn't know that elves purred like cats!" Aragorn laughed in disbelief.  
  
"I guess there are a few things left that I can surprise you with then, Strider." The prince shot back, a smile playing at the corners of his slender mouth.  
  
As Gandalf rode past the pillar, the great hand no longer appeared white, but stained dark with blood. Great pools of water filled the hollows beside the road, creating waterfalls and eddies as it trickled along.   
  
"These are ill tidings, Gandalf, " Théoden said to the Istari, glancing back to where Ithilin rode facing Legolas. "I still question the sanity of bringing that girl along. Who knows what we will face here. She can barely stand, let alone defend herself."  
  
"I assure you, Théoden, she can easily defend herself against what lies ahead." The wizard replied. "And I doubt her mate will let any touch her, save Aragorn, Gimli or myself."  
  
"But she is so frail."  
  
"Do not be deceived by appearances. Her apparent 'frailty', as you put it, is her greatest strength. She is stronger then even she knows at this time."  
  
Théoden looked back at her. How could such a delicate creature not need the protection of men? She seemed so dependent on the elf for her very life. Yet, when her intense sapphire gaze met his he sensed an untold courage that had yet to be tested.  
  
As they rode onward, the mists cleared and Orthanc rose before them, a towering and forbidding structure still, in its ruined state.  
  
The company halted before the ruined gates of Isengard, surveying the destruction that lay about them in awe. What could have wreaked such damage?  
  
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" came a voice from the rubble heap beside them. "We are the door wardens. One Meriadoc Brandybuck and one Peregrin Took at you service, good sirs. The Lord Saruman is within, closeted with a one Wormtongue or he would doubtless be here to welcome such honored lords."  
  
Gandalf laughed heartily, "No doubt that he would. Was it he that charged you with guard duty upon these doors and watch for guests?"  
  
"Nay, we were charged with this task by Treebeard. He commanded us to give welcome to the Lord of Rohan."  
  
Gimli was fairly bursting with joy. "You . . . you . . . you rascals!" he cried, "What of you companions? Hammer and tongs! You've led us on a fine chase, you have! And we find you feasting and smoking! Where did you come by the weed?"  
  
Aragorn and the two elves chuckled at the gruff dwarf's emotional display.   
  
"You speak for us as well, Gimli." Legolas laughed, "Though, truth be told, I would rather find out how they came by the wine."  
  
"'Tis past noon," Gandalf said, "and we not eaten since daybreak."  
  
"And some of us, since we camped for the night." Legolas muttered testily, drawing snickers from the human and the dwarf as well as a sharp look from the wizard.  
  
"Treebeard, bid me ask you, my Lord of the Mark and Gandalf, to ride to the northern wall and he will welcome you." Merry said politely.  
  
"Come, Théoden. Let us leave these five at their ease and seek out Treebeard."  
  
The King nodded and rode with Gandalf and his men north toward the wall.  
  
***  
  
Some time later the Rohirrim and Gandalf returned.  
  
"Come, hên." Gandalf said helping Ithilin to her feet. "We must speak with Saruman.."  
  
"Ada. I wish to put it behind me, not relive it." She said resisting his gentle tug on her arm.  
  
"Yet to put Saruman's and Wormtongue's grievous crimes in the past, you must face them."  
  
"I would rather forget them."  
  
"But you can't, can you?" the wizard said, lifting her chin to look her in the eye. "I would that it had never happened, little one, but you are stronger now because of it. Rise above the darkness in your heart and find hope that you can be free of Saruman's prison."  
  
The little she-elf looked away from his intense gaze, sighing heavily. How could she face these men who tortured her and raped her? How could she feel anything but hate for what they did? Hate was power. Power she wanted over her tormentors.   
  
"If the path to freedom is through darkness and pain then that is the path I must trod." she replied slowly, trying to swallow her fear.  
  
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. I, too, must find forgiveness for them."   
  
She felt his strong, slender arms slide about her waist, holding her to his body protectively. She realized that she wasn't the only one hurt by Saruman's and Wormtongue's abuse. What had been done to her, had been done to him as well. Legolas' heart and strength had been with her throughout the ordeal. And it was by his will alone that she still lived to confront these men. Left to herself, she would have given up long before she reached Isengard the first time.  
  
Gandalf smiled at the elven prince as the young elf rested his chin on top of her head. He had known from the beginning that they had bound, though he hadn't let on. Theirs had been a difficult pairing. They had been torn away from one another shortly after they had bound. And Legolas' father had forced the prince into a marriage that should have never been. Gandalf had tried to reason with Thranduil, but the arrogant king wouldn't listen. Yet he marveled at how the bond between them had not only survived but continued to grow and strengthen over the years. Very few elves had a bonding this tight. Though he knew not what lay ahead, he was certain that these two young ones would be together to the end.  
  
"Saruman!" Gandalf commanded as he struck the door with his staff, "Saruman, come forth!"  
  
An eerie silence was followed by the sound of the window above the door being slid open.  
  
"Who is it? What is it you want?" called a voice from the darkness beyond the door.  
  
"I know that voice and ever will I curse it's first hearing." Théoden said, startled.  
  
Ithilin shuddered involuntarily at the sound and backed closer to Legolas.  
  
"Saruman, since you be his footman, Grima Wormtongue." Said Gandalf impatiently, "Yet one of our number also has business with you."  
  
"What have I done to incur the wrath of you, old man?"  
  
"'Tis not I that has a quarrel with you, this time, but a certain she-elf that was held prisoner here but two days since."  
  
"What she-elf?" Wormtongue replied silkily.  
  
Ithilin wanted to reach through the tiny opening and throttle the snake. "You know perfectly well what she-elf, delos o cuil." She hissed vehemently.  
  
Legolas' and Aragorn's eyebrows leapt into their hairline. Neither of them had ever heard her speak like that. That particular term was considered the ultimate swear word among the elves. It was rarely used for the reason that it referred to the person as being misborn.  
  
"You did to me what you would have done to Théoden's niece, if you had been given half the chance."  
  
"I know not of what you speak, my lady."  
  
"Come out here and face me, coward!" She growled, her hand sliding to the hilt of her sword. "Or are you afraid of facing a woman who is unfettered?!"  
  
She was angry. And while it was justified, it was not productive.  
  
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered softly in her ear, "although he certainly merits a painful death in my book, let it not be by our hands that he is slain."  
  
Ithilin spun on her mate, anger, pain, humiliation, and hate burning in her sapphire eyes. "How dare you council me thus, Legolas Greenleaf!" she spat in elvish. "You, of all people, know intimately what this sorry excuse for a human did to me! And you ask that I spare his life?"  
  
"Were it yours to take, guren, I would let you be. I ask only that you listen to your heart and do as it bids."  
  
"And what would you do, were it you that had been tortured and raped?"  
  
"Ithilin!" the elf shouted, "I will repudiate you if this continues."  
  
Aragorn looked at his friend, dumbfounded. He never thought Legolas would even think of doing that. He had heard of that happening, but the consequences of such a repudiation were painful to both parties. And knowing how strong their bond was, he knew that Legolas was risking death to bring Ithilin back to sanity.   
  
Tears slid down the she-elf's soft cheeks. She had almost given in to the darkness raging in her heart. And almost lost the one thing she could not afford to lose. She swallowed hard and turned back to the door, looking deep within herself for the will to forgive these men. She had seen what hate had done to them. It had twisted their minds so that lies sounded like truth and drove them to stamp out all that was light and good in the world. No. She would not let her anger and fear rule her. She would not fall into the darkness of hate. If she did not forgive them, how could she expect to fully heal. They would pay for their crimes in Eru's time, not hers.  
  
"It has been long since you have known truth. For long years have Saruman and Sauron fed you lies and deceit. What you did to me was nothing more than a culmination of the falsehoods that they gave you." She said softly. "I forgive you."  
  
"Pretty words from a pretty slave." Wormtongue sneered from behind the door.  
  
Legolas growled audibly but said nothing.  
  
"Go and fetch your master, snake." Gandalf said.  
  
The window snapped shut, leaving them to wait in silence.  
  
All Ithilin wanted to do was seek comfort in her mate's arms but their meeting was far from over. She still had to face Saruman.  
  
"Why must you disturb my rest?" came the wizard's voice from above.   
  
"I have business with you, Saruman!" she called.  
  
"I speak not to half grown women who know not their place, child. Let your elders do your speaking for you." The Istari replied smoothly.  
  
"Dare you speak thus to the Coithuliel?"  
  
"I know of no such person." Saruman said. "But I pray you, let me first speak with to the King of Rohan. What say you, Théoden King?"  
  
Théoden stood enthralled and could not find his tongue to answer.  
  
"Lord, hear me! Do we stand amazed by a liar with honey on his forked tongue?" Éomer spoke heatedly, trying to break Saruman's spell. "I ask you, my lord, to remember Théodred at the Fords and the graves of those who perished at Helm's Deep! He is treacherous and a murderer! Seek not his aid!"  
  
Saruman laughed but anger was on his lips, "My lord of Rohan, am I to be called a murderer because valiant men have fallen in battle."  
  
"Murder is murder, however you care to justify it!" Ithilin cried. "Good, honest men and elves died! And for what? Your vanity, my lord? Sauron has lied to you if you -"  
  
"Silence, wench!"  
  
"I will not be silenced! How many have died before me in that chamber, Saruman!? How many of them were elves? Blood does not lie!"  
  
"You are a liar, Saruman, cold and cruel. So like your dark master who stretches out his clawed hand from the darkness of Mordor." Théoden said, coming out of his stupor. "Even were you ten times as wise, you would not have the right to rule me or the people of Rohan." His eyes blazed angrily as he thought of the boys, men and elves who lay dead upon the Deeping wall and of the horrors that the wild men had done to the villages of the Westfold. "What of the torches your men put to the villages in the Westfold and those that there lie dead?"  
  
"What of the babes that cry hungrily at their mother's dead breast? What of the mothers that mourn their young sons?" Ithilin called out. She knew of the nightmare that the wizard unleashed upon Rohan. She had heard the weeping of the women of Rohan, even as she lay in the sleep of death, as they buried their children. "Can you ease their grief? Can you bring their dead back to life?"  
  
"Go back to your caves and huts!" the Istari hissed. "Gandalf, how can you endure the company of dotards, mad prattling elves, and tag-alongs? Dismiss these lesser folk from your thought. Together we could heal the disorders of this world. Will you not come up? I am more than willing to overlook the past and receive you. Let us understand one another. Let them wait on our decisions."  
  
Gandalf laughed heartily, "You should have been a court jester, Saruman! Ah, me!" he paused, gaining control over his mirth. "I understand you all too well, now. The last time I visited you, you would have sent me in chains to Mordor. And my daughter as well no doubt, if you had been given half the chance. Nay, I do not think I will come up. But perhaps you will come down?"  
  
Saruman paled. He was frightened. Yet when he finally spoke, his voice was shrill and cold and full of hatred.  
  
"I can hear well enough here. I do not trust you, Gandalf. I am no fool."  
  
"I am giving you one last chance to be free, Saruman. I have no desire to kill you or hurt you in any manner. You would know that if you understood me half as well as you believe you do. You can leave Orthanc, free - if you choose." Gandalf replied wearily.  
  
"Can you give me back what you took from me, Saruman?" Ithilin said quietly, not daring to look up at the wizard who stood on the balcony above yet her voice broke with grief. "Can you give me back my innocence? My life? 'Tis not just the women of Rohan who mourn."  
  
Théoden starred at her. What had the wizard done to her? Yet when the Istari spoke again, he did not address the little she-elf.  
  
"How very kind of you Gandalf the Gray. And condescending. But why should I leave? And if I choose to, there are to be conditions, I presume?"  
  
"Look about you, Saruman. Your servants are destroyed. You have made enemies of your neighbors and you have cheated your new master. I would dread that the eye of his wrath find me cheating him, were I his servant." Gandalf answered.  
  
"Cheated?" Saruman laughed, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "Of what?"  
  
"The Coithuliel and the Heir of Isildur, perhaps? We both know that the race of Men would be doomed without one of them."  
  
"Man is doomed to fail with or without them, Gandalf. Man is weak. You are a fool to believe in prattling elves with fairy tale prophecies."  
  
Gandalf shook his head. "You have never believed that there could possibly be someone wiser than you, Saruman. That has always been your failing. And for that I pity you." He paused looking down at Ithilin, but she would not look up. "You are free to go as you will, but you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc and your staff."  
  
"As well as the Keys to Barad-dûr itself, I suppose You'll have, too, the staves of Five wizards and the crowns of seven kings?" Saruman screamed, "I have other matters which need my attention. If you wish to treat with me, go away and come back when you are sober!" He turned and left the balcony.  
  
"I did not yet give you leave to go, Saruman. Come back!" Gandalf commanded.  
  
Saruman turned again and was unwillingly dragged back to the balustrade by an unseen force.  
  
"Stay then! Stay and eat away at the ends of your old plots. But you shall not again touch the daughter of Varda." He cried. "Behold, Saruman! I am not the Istari you betrayed, Gandalf the Gray, but Gandalf the White who has returned from death. For your crimes, I cast you from the order and from the Council. Your staff is broken! Now, go!"  
  
Just as Saruman fell back and crawled away a shining globe came hurtling down and bounced off the iron railing where he once stood. The iron snapped with a foreboding clang. The sphere sped close to Gandalf's head and nearly hit Ithilin. Legolas reached out and grabbed her away from its path, hunching over her protectively. The stair, on which Gandalf stood, cracked and splintered in a shower of glittering sparks as the heavy crystal hit. It rolled down the steps, heading for one of the pools.  
  
"A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, but badly aimed." Gandalf said.  
  
"Could he not make up his small mind whom he hated more?" Aragorn asked, a cockeyed smile playing on his lips.  
  
"Perhaps." The wizard chuckled, "If Wormtongue comes out of there alive, it will be more than he deserves after what he has done. What ever happens, the punishment will be just. Come, let us leave this place." 


	13. Fighting the Darkness Within

Author's Note: AAARRRGH! I finally got to see ROTK! Oliphants have to count for more than one, I'm sorry!!! The end of this is coming slowly but it has finally solidified in my mind's eye. I do promise that this is going somewhere and it's not going to be one of those stories that have the chapters from hell (i.e. those that have 64+ chapters and counting.) I don't want to read them myself so why should I make you. Anyway, enjoy this next chapter.   
  
Part Twelve: Fighting the Darkness Within  
  
Ithilin shook off Legolas' protective embrace. She wanted to run. She could not bear to have him look at her now. She hated how weak she must appear in his eyes. She hated that he had to call her back from darkness.  
  
"Ithilin." He called tentatively, "Come, we must go."  
  
"Yes." She answered, turning on her heel and leaving him behind.  
  
Legolas started to follow her but Gandalf laid a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.  
  
"Let her go, young one." He said watching the she-elf depart. "She needs some time to come to terms with all that has happened to her. Seek her out later when her anger has cooled."  
  
The prince nodded, his eyes following her path. She was still so weak, he did not want her to go to far unprotected.  
  
"I fear I may have hurt her, Gandalf."  
  
"There was no other way." The Maia answered reassuringly, "Sometimes we must hurt those we love in an effort to help them. You know, better than I, that she could have dragged you into that darkness."  
  
"Not with out a fight." Legolas stopped and gazed into the white wizard's gray eyes and sighed, "I would have made good my threat."  
  
"And forfeited your life doing so, my young friend."  
  
"I know. But I forfeited it long ago, when I bound to her. My fate is bound to hers, whatever that may be."  
  
Gandalf nodded. He marveled at the young elf's acceptance of possible death. If anything, this proud young prince had a strength that was as yet unmatched by any of the elves.   
  
"I love her with all that I am, Gandalf."  
  
"Of that, I have no doubt, Legolas." The Maia laughed. "Her faith has been shaken to the core. It will take time, but I believe she will learn to trust again."  
  
"Yes, but will she trust me."  
  
"She hasn't stopped." Gandalf said soberly. "She is angry at herself for needing you to remind her who she is."  
  
"How -" Legolas gave a strangled cry and fell to his knees. His world spun dizzily and blackness threatened to claim him. "Gandalf," he managed to gasp in panic before he collapsed into the wizard's arms, "she's gone!"  
  
"Aragorn! Gimli! Find Ithilin, now!" Gandalf called as he lowered the prince to the ground. "Legolas! Come on child. Don't let her go without a fight."  
  
***  
  
Ithilin had run as far as she could and collapsed sobbing to the ground. What had happened to her? She didn't know who she was anymore. Legolas must not have told her the truth last night. Maybe he really abhorred the sight of her now that she had been defiled by both men and orcs. Yes, Legolas would be better off without her. But how would she survive without him? She still needed his milk. She still needed him.  
  
As that thought struck her, she sobbed harder. She had already broken the bond.   
  
"Ithilin?" Aragorn's soft voice broke through her despair like a shaft of light. "A, tithen pen, tolo enni."  
  
"Estel. Legolas must hate me."  
  
Aragorn gathered her shivering body in his arms, pressing her close to his chest as he had seen Legolas do many times over the last four months. She was hurting, badly. And it was more than physical, she was in deep emotional and spiritual pain as well. Although Legolas had not said what had happened to her, he could guess. Torture, elves can deal with, but rape was something horrific to them. Raped elves more often than not died from the ordeal, either by a gradual wasting away or by taking their own lives. However, he was pretty sure that she would not resort to suicide.  
  
"I broke the bond."  
  
"Ouch!" he winced, kissing the top of her head. "Let's get back to them. Legolas is going to need you."  
  
"I can't." she sobbed. "It is what he wanted. He said he would repudiate me. I just saved him the trouble."  
  
"No, Ithilin. That is not what he wants at all."  
  
"I am not worthy of him. There is too much darkness, too much hate. He is better off."  
  
"Nay, little sister. He needs you as much as you need him. His love for you runs deeper and truer than any know." Aragorn stroked her hair, gently. How did one heal an elf who had given up the will to live? "The darkness and hate can be overcome, but only if you decide to let them go. If you do not, then you will surely die and take Legolas with you. I know that you don't want that, not for him."  
  
Dark sapphire eyes met his. The pain in them, sharp and clear. He could see why Legolas loved her. Her eyes were like deep pools of pure emotion. If he wasn't careful, he would get lost in them.  
  
"Help me." She whispered, raw emotion coloring her words. "I wanted to kill them for what they had done to me."  
  
"Why did you walk into that hell?" Aragorn asked bluntly. "If you truly did not know what to expect, why did you do it?"  
  
"You are Isildur's Heir, Estel. You had to be protected. At any cost."  
  
Aragorn gazed into her eyes again, stunned. Legolas had been right. All she had endured had been for him.  
  
"Estel, you are too important to the world of Men. Sauron can not be allowed to corrupt you."  
  
"Our paths are joined, little one. He almost had you, so it follows that it would have only been a matter of time before he had me." He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "But my fate is not bound to yours. Do not drag Legolas into the darkness of hate. Forgive the pawns of Sauron. Come back to the light."  
  
"How can Legolas even look at me now. I have been violated by vile creatures and men."  
  
"What did you see in his mind and heart last night?"  
  
"Acceptance. Love."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "What did you feel in his touch?"  
  
"Tenderness." Silver tears were streaking down her cheeks. Aragorn was right. Never did she feel any revulsion from him. His hands had touched her with desire and need, not with distaste. He had never denied her anything she needed. He had teased her as he had always done. He had shown her the same acceptance that she had shown him all those months ago. "And desire. Ai, Aragorn, what have I done?"  
  
"Somehow I doubt that your bond is broken, Ithilin. What Ilúvatar has joined, no one can tear asunder."  
  
"I must go to him." She said rising from his lap. "I have hurt him, and he will need me."  
  
***  
  
Théoden watched, confused, as Gandalf lifted the elf in his arms. The archer had passed out after crying something in his native tongue. What had happened?  
  
"Gandalf, is there anything I can do?" he asked.  
  
"We need to make him as comfortable as possible until Aragorn and Gimli return."  
  
"Bring him to my bedroll. It isn't much, but it is better than the hard ground."  
  
Gandalf nodded and followed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"His mate dropped out of their bond." The wizard explained.  
  
"He has a mate?"  
  
Gandalf rolled his eyes skyward. "Well, young princeling, you've managed to keep her a secret from some people." He whispered, laying the elf on the blanket. "Yes, Théoden. He is mated. That is who I sent Aragorn and Gimli after."  
  
"The girl? But she can't be old enough to wed. Not only that, she is human. Elves don't marry outside their race."  
  
Occasionally they do, Théoden. However, Ithilin is not as human as she appears."  
  
"Ithilin . . . " Legolas whispered weakly, his eyes fluttering open then closing again. "Gandalf, where is she?"  
  
"Sîdh, pen-neth. Estelio Aragorn a Gimli rada he."   
  
Legolas feebly fought the Maia's restraining hands. "Rado he, Mithrandir! Boe nîn rada he! Leithia nin!"  
  
Gandalf did not move away but increased the pressure on the elf's chest, pinning him in place. "I'm sorry, young one, but it is for the best that you stay here. Aragorn and Gimli will bring her back."  
  
"Ai!" Legolas moaned as he curled on his side, trying to escape the pain in his heart.  
  
"What can I do?" Théoden asked, gazing at the prone elf with concern.  
  
"Stay with him." The wizard said as he laid his cloak over the shivering elf, tucking it around his slender body. "Do not let him get up. I fear the worst for him if she does not return soon."  
  
Théoden looked up, shocked. Legolas was one of the few elven survivors of the battle. Elves were immortal. Although they could die in battle, little else affected them. What was one woman, after all.  
  
"He is no longer a separate entity from her, Théoden, but one half of a whole. He will die without her."  
  
"Ai! Elo Legolas!" Ithilin ran up to him and knelt by his side, sobbing. "Non sí, meleth nîn! Gohena nin! Deri an-nîn!"  
  
"Where would I go?" Legolas whispered, closing his eyes as her tears splashed on his face. "Tolo, meleth nîn. Tolo enni."  
  
Ithilin sank into his arms. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Hush, Ú-moe edaved, meleth." Legolas kissed her passionately, oblivious to everything around them. "It matters little to me what they did to you. As long as you are by my side, Ithilin, I have hope."  
  
"In broad daylight?!" Gimli exclaimed. A bright blush coloring his already ruddy face as he watched the elf practically smother his mate with kisses. "Bloody elves have no sense of propriety!"  
  
Legolas' laughter rang on the breeze like a thousand chimes. "If you are so scandalized by my behavior, dwarf, you can leave."  
  
"And if I did, who would put you in your proper place?"  
  
"If you did, I wouldn't have anyone to trump up battle scores?"  
  
Ithilin arched an eyebrow at her mate. "A game, I assume."  
  
"Aye, lass, a game. And I won." Gimli leaned against his axe, smirking smugly at the prince.  
  
"You did not! It was a tie!"  
  
"You wish! He was already dead!"  
  
"I still say he was twitching!"  
  
"He was twitching because my axe was embedded in his skull, prissy elf."  
  
Aragorn grinned at the good-natured competition between the two unlikely friends. "Gentlemen, can we get going? We've wasted enough time as it is."  
  
Ithilin helped Legolas to his feet. "Concede defeat this time, a'maelamin. There are more battles yet ahead of us. And more games for you and Ai'atar to play."  
  
Legolas smiled down at her as he pulled her to him. "I don't know what you see in him, meleth-nîn. He smelly and slow and a sore loser."  
  
"Sounds to me like my mate is the sore loser, Legolas." She chided gently as her fingers threaded into his. "I dwell here no longer. Let us leave this place to its dark inhabitants and take Middle Earth back for all the free folk of her shores."  
  
Legolas nodded. He had come so close to losing her. Now, she was free. The darkness had passed and soon her strength would return. At least now there was some hope for the future.  
  
End Notes: Elvish translations.  
  
"A, tithen pen, tolo enni."- Oh, little one, come to me  
  
"Sîdh, pen-neth. Estelio Aragorn a Gimli rada he." - Peace, young one, Trust Aragorn and Gimli to find her.  
  
"Rado he, Mithrandir! Boe nîn rada he! Leithia nin!" - I must find her, Mithrandir! It is necessary for me to find her! Release me!  
  
"Ai! Elo Legolas!" - Alas! Oh, Legolas!  
  
"Non sí, meleth nîn! Gohena nin! Deri an-nîn!"- I am here, my love! Forgive me! Stay with me!  
  
"Tolo, meleth nîn. Tolo enni." - Come, my love. Come to me  
  
"Hush, Ú-moe edaved, meleth." - Hush, there is nothing to forgive, love 


End file.
